University
by SeventhSister
Summary: Basically, it's about Jonathan Crane before he began to work at Arkham, from the time he was a college professor. And about one of his students. And, well... Read and find out more. And it's mostly quite short chapters, so no sweat:D
1. Chapter 1

**Yeah well, I'd love to put in a disclaimer right about... here, but be honest: If I told you I owned Batman, would you believe me?**

**I only own the OCs and all what got anything to do with them.**

One.

It was raining softly, more like dust falling, actually, when Professor Jonathan Crane made his way down the halls of Gotham Central University, with slow, elegant steps. It was the third week into the first semester of the school year and he was to teach his so called "Special Class" for students who had chosen his seminar. Sadly, not that many of the students were actually there to learn; Gotham Central University was well known for having the rule, that teachers and students were allowed to date, since they hadn't figured it would be a problem. If a pupil and professor were to start a relationship, the student's classes with that teacher would simply be moved to another educationist.

And...

Jonathan Crane let out a deep sigh at the thought.

... Many a young girl at the school had lost her heart to the charming, blue eyes reserved teacher, and now tried to spend as much time with him as possible. Three weeks into the year and he had already received fifteen love letters, stuffed in his briefcase or the pigeonhole at the teachers lounge, two stuck under the windscreen wiper of his car, five hearts drawn on the blackboard, with his initials and some girl's, and one vocal declaration in the hallway, where a girl had shouted her love for him to the world, and been sent off to the nurses by another teacher.

Jonathan doubted if there was one single person in his class, who actually wanted to learn something about the human mind, not just about his phone number.

He entered the classroom and strode to the front of it, placing his black briefcase on the desk, and began, with a beginning headache, to wipe the hearts and initials off the blackboard. Then the bell rung, and fifteen students slowly, but steadily, found their way into the small classroom.

*

When the last pupil had closed the door and sat himself down, Jonathan Crane stood for a moment and looked out over the three boys and twelve girls, and sighed, before turning his back to them and picking up the white chalk, writing one, single, solitary word on the board, in the middle where everybody could see it.

_Fear. _

,, I congratulate all of you for being on time." he said as he turned back round and studied his subject out through his glasses, his icily cool eyes running over each and everyone of them.

,, Now, can anyone tell me, what fear is?" eight hands were raised, some of the girls and the three boys.

,, Yes... Sabrina?" Jonathan Crane had some difficultly remembering all of the names of the students, since he thought they all looked very similar in appearance (and some in thought) so he had developed several means of remembrance, so he could distinguish them from one another. Sabrina, who was one of the girls who demanded to sit in front, he called 60. For that was, to him, her IQ and layers of her eye shadow. She was dressed in a very, _very _low cut shirt and a skirt which was so short, it could go for a large belt, and her greasy mouse coloured hair had been forced back in a ponytail, which was so tight it made her eyes bulge, like the eyes of an insect.

,, It's when you're afraid." she said and smiled, showing the world she smoked too much and brushed too little.

_Yet another record breaker. _

,, Anyone who can define fear more specific?" he pointed to another girl, he had named Kitty, since she seemed to have a fetish for anything with the little white "Hello Kitty" on it.

,, Something you're scared of, like when it's dark or a spider." she seemed very proud of that. Jonathan groaned and wondered if the lesson wasn't over soon? He picked one of the boys.

,, Mr. Rufus?"

,, Fear is something intense you feel, a feeling of aversion to... well, anything. Places, ideas, objects, situations... Anything of the sorts." Jonathan nodded and turned back to the board, writing the word _Aversion._ under _Fear. _

,, And _why_..." why was a word used very often in professor Crane's lessons.

,,... do we fear?" he turned back round and pointed to another girl, one he always forgot the name of.

_Something Shakespearean... _

,, Yes, miss..."

,, Cressida." the girl helped. Yes, that was her name, Ophelia Cressida. She had dark brown hair with a deep red shine to it, tied loosely up in a bun with long stands falling down over her face and shoulders, and her brown eyes matched the deep richness of her hair to perfection. She was wearing a loose-fitting pair of washed out jeans and an over sized, worn to the limit, dark grey knitted sweater.

,, Miss Cressida."

,, Because if we didn't fear, we'd be stupid. Fear is something every person needs to keep alive."

,, Good. Do anyone in here know a specific fear or phobia, as it also is called?" then he began the teacher's favourite game, picking those who weren't raising their hands, and peeling them apart with his cool eyes. He let each of the fifteen students tell a specific phobia or fear they knew. Pretty simple, nothing original to be found there.

,, Does fear have any relation to the Shadows Jung described?" Ophelia Cressida asked when Jonathan had managed to wrench an answer from one of the unprepared girls, a pale little creature he had named the Mouse, for her way of moving and talking and the size of her brain.

,, The Shadow?" Jonathan asked, wanting to hear if the girl actually knew something, or had just memorised something to impress him.

,, The trunk we al have locked away in our heads; like Mr. Hyde in the novel, the Shadow is all our negative sides, all the ones we wish to hide from society, our... darker side."

,, Some may say that." Jonathan was slightly impressed by the girl's knowledge.

,, The Shadow is, as you put it, our darker side, and every person can sometimes fear what inside him-or herself. And no, I do not talk of teenagers hitting puberty." the class chuckled, the nice and genuine chuckle the students gave when their teacher joked.

,, But that is a matter we will be discussing later on, so we will have plenty of time to debate on it then." and then, finally, a bell rung and the students began gathering their notebooks and the sorts.

,, For the lesson tomorrow you are all to read the first chapter in your text books, and come up with five different, _original _fears." Jonathan Crane said loudly, to be heard over the sound of pupils getting ready to leave. He turned to write the page numbers on the board.

,, Miss Cressida and miss Hooper, if you could stay behind?" the two girls, the Shakespearean and the Mouse, exchanged glances, and Cressida turned to Rufus and shrugged, unknowing. When the room was empty, except for the teacher and the two girls, Jonathan Crane waved them up to the front and let them stand beside each other, like two persons who were to be shot against the wall, miss Hooper shifting her weight from one foot to another and miss Cressida looking longingly at the door to the hallways outside. Being held back by the teacher, even if it was good news, was always uncomfortable.

,, Miss Hooper, if you want to participate in this class, I suggest you get a hold of yourself and start speaking in _words_ and_ sentences_, instead of stuttering your way through it all, understood?" Mouse Hooper nodded silently.

,, She can't help it, she's just nervous." Jonathan's head snapped from the Mouse, whose real name actually was Rose, to Ophelia, who tried to be brave and hold the gaze of her teacher, but then broke and turned her eyes to the floor.

,, I will get to you in time, miss Cressida, so be quiet until then." he turned back to Rose.

,, You can go." the girl hurriedly nodded and almost ran for the door, leaving Ophelia at the claws of Jonathan Crane.

,, Miss Cressida, there are a great many things I do not tolerate in my classes: reading ahead of the others to gain points are one of them..." the girl looked up and opened her mouth to protest, but she was cut off when professor Crane continued.

,, Interrupting is another one. If you want to stay in this class, I would strongly advise you to keep the pace with the others, and hold your tongue, unless you are told otherwise. Do I make myself clear?" she didn't answer, her eyes back on her sneakers again.

,, I would like you to look at me." she slowly turned her gaze up and focused on his elbows.

,, In the eyes, please." she did.

,, Do I make myself clear?" he asked again.

,, Yes..." she muttered after a long time, both of them battling to get the other one to look away."

,, Then you may go." but the second he grabbed his briefcase and walked for the door, the Cressida girl spoke again.

,, I didn't read ahead..." she said and Jonathan stopped, waiting for her to walk up to him.

,, Is that so?"

,, Yeah, I read about Jung in another book, it has nothing to do with the stuff you gave us...

And you shouldn't be too hard on Rose, you're scaring the fucking hell out of her and then expect for her to react as quickly as the rest of us..." Ophelia bit her lower lip the second she'd realised she had just sworn at a teacher. At Jonathan Crane, nonetheless.

,, You will have plenty of time to ponder over miss Hooper's mental state later today, miss Cressida, since you have just earned yourself one hour of detention." Ophelia clutched the leather strap of her school bag and glared at a point in the floor behind Crane.

,,... Fuck...!" she cursed herself.

,, That will be two hours now." her eyes shot back to him and she opened her mouth to utter some sort of objection.

,, Do you want to make it to a third?" professor Crane challenged and his blue eyes caught with hers. She then shut her mouth again and shook with the need to shout something at him.

,, Good." Jonathan Crane turned and walked out of the door.

,, See you tomorrow then." he said as a form of goodbye, closing the door on an infuriated Ophelia.

**Ooohhh, LOOK! A Review button! What say you on posting a review?**


	2. Chapter 2

Two.

,, I'm really sorry for getting you into trouble like that..." Rose Hooper said when Ophelia Cressida managed to escape detention at the end of the day. Ophelia shrugged.

,, Nah, it wasn't your fault; I just have to remember not to swear around Crane again." the girl said as they began walking don the now deserted hall of the school.

,, He's just so... Intense sometimes." Rose said. Ophelia nodded.

,, Yeah, which is a shame, since I really like the way he teaches. We have been cursed with choosing a class run by Creepy-Crane." it was only three weeks into the year, so it was still time for some of the students to make friends; Ophelia liked being with Rufus and Rose.

,, How old is he anyway?" Rose asked when they reached Ophelia's locker and the Shakespearean girl stuffed her books into the small room.

,, Twenty five, I think. Or was it twenty four?"

,, He's that young?!" Rose asked so loudly it echoed down the hall. Ophelia nodded.

,, He's some sort of genius, so he thinks that gives him the right to boss us around."

,, He just acts so much older."

,, And he dresses like a 60 year old; I don't think I've ever before been scared of a teacher wearing sweater vests...!" the two girls laughed and began walking down the hall again, almost bumping into professor Crane as he exited the teachers longue, after having tossed three new poetic love notes in the thrash.

,, Professor Crane...!" Ophelia said, paling slightly but keeping on a smile. Jonathan liked to see she was nervous around him. And as for Hooper... She looked like she was about to crawl back into her mouse hole.

,, Miss Cressida, mss Hooper: I hope you did not get a detention as well?" Rose shook her head rapidly, not really wanting to talk. Since she'd been a little girl, she had stuttered when she grew nervous.

,, N-no, I-I wa-was jus-just waiting for... Ophe-Ophelia." Crane's icy gaze turned to Ophelia, who stood with her back straight and her head held high, eyes glowing defiantly; it was after school now, so Crane had no authority over her.

,, I trust you learned something?" she nodded.

,, Yes."

,, Yes, _professor._" Crane instructed. Ophelia was about to protest, but then reconsidered when her dark eyes caught with Crane's again. He had this blank look, just like a snake lying and waiting for someone barefooted to walk by, and his amazingly blue eyes usually held a look Ophelia only had seen on pictures of crocodiles, just waiting for the little lambkin to make a mistake. Basically, Jonathan Crane's standard expression was _I'm going to kill you_. Cold, deadly and blank.

,, Yes, professor." she muttered, glaring meanly at her sneakers like they were the ones who held the blame.

,, Good." he turned and walked away from the two girls. Rose grabbed her heart dramatically and gasped for air she hadn't lost, whilst Ophelia wanted to hurl her bag after the teacher.

,, Jerk." she mumbled instead.

*

When Ophelia jumped off the bus at her home, she unlocked the door with one of the keys in the chain in her bag and walked into the front of the small shop, tossing her bag over the counter and making sure it landed perfectly on the floor, where customers couldn't see it. She stood for a moment, breathing in the delicious smell of book upon book upon book, loosening the black ribbon she had tied around her bun, making her dark brown hair falling down over her back in a dramatic gathering of waves. She ran her fingers through it a couple of times, and then walked over and turned the black sign with the gold letters in the window, declaring that the second hand bookshop was now, finally, _Open_.

*

Within half an hour of Ophelia opening the shop, it was already filling up with customers, regulars as well as new ones. Even her most regular customers she didn't know the names off, even though some knew hers.

She turned the page in the textbook they had been given by professor Cane, sitting at the counter and scribbling notes down now and again, left elbow resting on the table and her chin resting on her hand. She took another sip of her tea and wrote down the word _Homichlophobia_, the fear of fog. If Professor Crane wanted original phobias, Ophelia was going to give him five original phobias. Beside her cup of tea and the dull textbook lay a small book she had found on the shelf with medical books, with every single phobia known to mankind written down, with a small explanation for each of them. All things aside, she really liked the class, even though the teacher was a jerk, and she knew how much it would annoy him to see her having done something original, so she tried to find the most original in the book.

One of the regulars, a woman Ophelia had dubbed Housewife, since she apparently had no other job than taking care of the home and the children, and everything about her, from her hair and make up to her clothes and her smile, just seemed a little too perfect to be real, walked up to the counter and Ophelia sent her that charming smile a happy worker always sends a customer. And with Housewife, Ophelia got to play a good round of humiliation.

,, Okay, that will be _Passion in the shadows_,_ The Italian Stable Boy _and _Bloomers Undone_. Anything else?" Ophelia said, so loud the whole shop could hear her. The Housewife blushed and shook he head, desperate to keep up her perfect appearance.

,, No thank you." she said stiffly, still smiling, wanting to get out of the small shop in a frightful hurry.

,, Now, you will need to keep these books away from children, since they're quite graphic, okay?" Ophelia said, again too loudly, while she wrote down the prices of the book on the small notepad she used for receipts, calculating the price in her head.

,, That will be 1,45 then." she said and grinned when Housewife handed her two dollars, still smiling stiffly as she said

,, Keep the change." and stuffed the books in her handbag and almost ran out through the door, leaving a woman shaped hole in it, like in a cartoon. Housewife never asked for a bag for the books, since that would be an evidence for her husband. And even though Ophelia never ceased to shout the titles of the books aloud, she always returned. For it was the only place near her home you could purchase cheap... Ahem, colourful novels.

Ophelia chuckled to herself and forced open the half rusty cash register, which opened with a _ding_ and put the money down, then closing it again. The whole shop was a magical place, with dark hardwood floors and dark hardwood bookshelves, and the small staircase and the railing on the first floor were dark as well. The huge windows to the right let in plenty of light, but for the darker corners Ophelia had put up small, Victorian lamps, in brass and glass, which gave off a golden glow to the books. The register on the dark counter was a huge black and gold painted thing, with old style numbers and a vintage look to it. Ophelia loved her little shop, in spite of all the time it stole from her homework.

A tall, thin man walked up then, a bright red scarf wrapped around his neck, and long, slightly curly, grey hair hanging down over his shoulders. Ophelia called him the Author. He was maybe about the 50-60 years old, with something wise in his grey eyes, and his nose looked like it had been broken at some point.

,, Alas, dear Ophelia, how do you do in your life?" he asked and handed Ophelia the books he had found, mostly poetry and old plays.

,, Very well, thank you. And you?"

,, Ah, the life of an artist is never dull. The drama never cease and the danger never ensues."

,, I'm glad to hear." Ophelia handed him the receipt with a smile.

,, 4,25." he gave her ten dollars, ignoring Ophelia's protests, announcing that.

,, Every cent was well earned." and left with the books in his pockets. Ophelia always thought the small books were designed for fitting into the pockets of booklovers, which she thought was a very beautiful thing.

*

When night had fallen and the last customer had left, Ophelia turned the sign in the window back round, announcing the bookshop was now _Closed_ and locked the door and checked the windows. Then she opened up the cash register again and took the money she had earned today and walked to her apartment in the back, opening the small safe and placing the money on one of the two small shelves.

_I've gotta go to the bank soon... _she thought as she shut the safe again and walked back to turn the lights off in the shop.

Back in the small apartment, which was actually two rooms separated by a door, one holding a small bathroom and one holding a small kitchen and a bed and some genuine... in between space, mostly crammed with bookshelves and books, Ophelia walked into the kitchen and started boiling some water. When it was boiling, she added salt and a package of noodles. When they were done, she added smoked salmon she had bought the day before, and mixed with some peas. Then she sat down on the solitary kitchen counter, legs crossed, with the plate of food in front of her and a copy of Richard Bachman's _The Regulators._

**Still... That review is a sight for sore eyes:)**


	3. Chapter 3

Three.

Next day, during professor Crane's class, Ophelia Cressida found it hard to keep her eyes open. She had been reading a little too long into the night, and now yawned regularly and could hardly keep her mind on the subject beforehand, most of all just letting it drift. She jolted from her seat when professor Crane slammed a heavy book down on her table, Crane himself standing and looking down at her with that blank, killing look again. He was dressed in a dark blue suit, tailored to fit his slim figure, with a dark yellow tie and, oh the horror, a dark green sweater vest.

,, Trouble concentrating, miss Cressida?" he asked, his voice dripping with ice. Ophelia nodded.

,, Yeah, sorry, it won't happen again, I just stayed up a bit late..."

,, Night terrors?" he asked, sarcastically. Ophelia shot him a glare and straightened up in her seat.

,, A good book. Couldn't stop reading once I'd started."

,, Well, now that you like reading so much, you can keep your head on the subject by reading this..." he tapped a finger on the cover of the book he had used to tear her from her daydreaming. Ophelia read an upside down title saying _Jung_.

,,... during this week, and I expect a thorough report on Jung's life and means of studying the mind."

,, What?!"

,, Including footnotes and references. And if I do not have the report by Monday, you are in for sixteen hours of detention, divided over the weekend. Understood?"

,, What? Why? What have I done wrong?" Ophelia asked, even though she wanted to shout it, but Jonathan Crane just ignored her and walked back to the black board, continuing his teaching. Ophelia sat by her table and fumed, her hands shaking so much she couldn't hold a pen and write notes down, her head hurting. When the bell rung and professor Crane told them to read from page 42 to 56

,, That includes you, Cressida, there's no excuse for you to fall behind." Ophelia packed her bag and walked up behind Crane, waiting patiently for him to turn around. When he did, he seemed surprised that she was still there.

,, Miss Cressida, do you wish to add anything to your report?" he said that as a threat; if Ophelia spoke out of tune, she'd be in for more homework.

,, I have homework for four other subjects, I have a job and I still need time to sleep and keep a social life...! Just because I happened to know about the Shadow side, I'm to be punished?!" Crane walked around her, with one hand in his pocket and one holding his black attaché.

,, It is the ways of the world, miss Cressida; you should get used to being punished for being smart." hmmnn. Crane admitted she was smart... Ophelia ran after him and cut him off by the door.

,, Have I done anything to offend you? Because if I haven't, this could actually be considered harassment."

,, I consider it character building. Now, if you could move?" he leaned close to her and reached around her, opening the door and letting her step out first, before following himself. Ophelia felt her eyes burn, like she wanted to cry from the injustice, but she settled seething as she paced furiously down the hall, bumping into Sabrina along the way.

,, Watch where you're going!" Sabrina said angrily.

,, Fuck off!" Ophelia shouted back and walked on, kicking the ground in front of her, like it was Crane's face.

**Hhmn, short chapter... So unlike me... **


	4. Chapter 4

Four.

Ophelia didn't really know what she feared, what her deepest, most inner fear was, but now she knew one thing; she could cross out claustrophobia on the list of suggestions.

It was Wednesday, and Ophelia was caught in a locker.

The day before, Tuesday, of course, she had spent in her bookshop, hardly looking up from the typewriter she had placed on the counter, sitting and writing on the stupid report she was to have finished by Monday for Crane, the only constant sound being that of the tapping of the keys and the ding when she reached the end of the page. She had broken two nails on the machine, but it was a small price to pay, since she was already halfway. She would like to hand in the report before Monday, just to piss Crane off.

Wednesday morning had run smoothly, since they weren't set to have Crane until the end of the day, but now Ophelia felt like she should have stayed in bed. In between two classes, she had been sorting through the books in her locker, when she had been grabbed by her hair, which that day had been tied up in a Virginia Woolf-styled bun, and been showed into the locker, so quickly she hardly had any time to react. Hearing the manic giggle of Sabrina and another voice she recognized as that of Rufus, Ophelia slammed herself against the door of the locker just as the two persons clicked the lock shut. And then the next class had begun. And Ophelia found herself caught in a locker.

Now her eyes really were burning with tears. It was just too fucking humiliating!

She slammed herself against the door yet again, but it didn't work. And it would still be an hour before there was another recess. She tried again...

*

Jonathan Crane was walking down the halls of the university, needing to go get some notes he had forgotten in his car, when he heard what sounded like someone trying to break down a locker. Following the sound, with a crystal clear memory of all the times he had been stuffed in a locker himself, his lanky frame fitting perfectly into the space, he wondered if people still were that childish. Finding the locker, which looked like it had been possessed, from the way it shook and clattered, he got his question answered. And, recognising the bag, which stood by the locker, dark green, worn leather with silver buckles, he could guess who was locked in the locker. The lock to the cabinet was, luckily, not one of those with numbers, where you needed a code, but a simple one with a key to it. Seeing the key was still in the lock, Jonathan reached out and unlocked it, stepping aside when Ophelia Cressida fell/stumbled out and landed on the floor, books and pieces of paper flying after her. Her face was slightly flushed and her eyes were red, her hair had somewhat loosened itself from the way she had sat it, and she looked tired. When she looked up and saw who her saviour was, she scrambled to her feet and raced down the hall, humiliation burning her up. Jonathan Crane shut the door of the locker and pushed some of the books aside with his foot, before following slowly.

Ophelia raced into the girls toilet, slamming the door after her, and bent down over the sink, breathing deeply like she was about to throw up. All along the right wall in the room were a row of cubicles with toilets in; all along the left was a long table with sinks and one long mirror. In the wall opposite from where the door was, was a great window, greasy so you couldn't look out of it, but it still let some light in. Ophelia turned on the cold water in the sink she stood by and splashed it in her face, as if it could wash away what had just happened. She turned the water off again and buried her face in her wet hands, trying to steady her trembling breath.

Great.

Where to go from there?

She looked out between her fingers, looked at herself in the mirror, and suddenly the mortification turned to anger. The whole day had been a fucking mistake, everything from getting slammed in a locker to getting let out by the teacher she hated the most. Her left hand curled into a fist and she slammed it into the mirror, shattering the glass and ignoring the burn in her hand. She wanted to peel away every memory of that girl in the mirror, that ugly thing that got caught in lockers and had to get help from a teacher, and then hid in the toilets, like in a stupid after school soap. She began breaking the mirror further apart, moving her fingers in under the glass and breaking shards of it off, enjoying the sound when it smashed against the table. It was like tearing up a bad essay you had written, or shouting at a person you had always hated. But then, after she had removed most of the mirror around the sink she stood by, Ophelia stopped when she felt a sharp, deeper pain in her left wrist, not matching the shallow cuts the mirror had given her before. She pulled away from the glass, like it now was her enemy, and looked at the long gash in her left wrist. And suddenly, Ophelia felt like her heart was now her greatest foe; the faster it beat, the faster more of her crimson blood gushed from the wrist, where the severed veins were now draining themselves.

_Fuck._

She pressed her right hand down over her bleeding wrist, standing and fighting an inner battle between her pride and life.

Hopefully Crane hadn't followed her.

She shouldered the door open and tripped out into the deserted hall, needing to go to the nurses right away. Then someone grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her around, mercilessly hard, and Ophelia stood now face to face with Jonathan Crane. He looked her up and down, focusing on her red eyes and bloodied sleeve and wrist. Then he looked through the door, where the broken mirror hung solemnly. Then he looked at Ophelia again.

,, What happened?" he asked, hand tightening on her shoulder. When Ophelia didn't answer, just croaked something incomprehensible, he quickly pulled a white handkerchief from the pocket of his suit and forced her clutching hand away from the cut, her fingers slipping in the blood, and wrapped it tightly around her wrist. And, grabbing her by her injured arm with one hand and keeping the other on her shoulder, Jonathan Crane dragged Ophelia down to the nurses, not one single word being exchanged between them.

*

,, Honestly, I don't know what to make of this." nurse Lucinda said as she pinched another paper thin looking glass shard from Ophelia's right palm, pouring a painful amount of antiseptic liquid on afterwards. Ophelia was sitting in a white chair down in the nurse's office, starring straight out into the air. In front of her, in another chair, sat the university's head nurse, Lucinda, a friendly plump lady in her early fifties, and cleaned Ophelia's hands for mirror. Jonathan stood further behind, hands in his pockets and that blank look in his eyes again, leaning against the frame of the closed door.

,, Why did the mirror break, Ophelia?" she asked and removed another piece of glass. Ophelia's left wrist had been dealt with swiftly, quickly dressed in a compress and bandage.

,, I tripped... And fell into it..." Ophelia said slowly, licking her dry lips slowly.

,, Can I have some water?" she asked.

,, Of course, honey." Lucinda talked to everyone like they were someone who needed a hug.

,, Professor Crane, if you're just going to stand around, you can might as well help a bit." the nurse said and motioned towards the watercooler in the corner of the white and grey room. Jonathan shot the nurse a glare when her back was turned, but pushed himself from the door frame and walked over and filled a plastic cup with water. He walked back and held it for Ophelia to take, who glared back and motioned to her hands, dressed in wounds and beginning bandage.

,, Here." Lucinda took the cup and held it for Ophelia to take a sip of.

,, In spite of how wonderfully entertaining this is, I have a class to teach in..." Jonathan looked at his watch.

,,... Two minutes. I suppose miss Cressida isn't going to participate?" Ophelia shook her head.

,, Go on, put me down as absent." she mumbled while Lucinda bandaged her fingers separately.

,, You can go." Lucinda said sternly, not liking the way professor Crane talked to the girl, and Jonathan left the room.

,, Would you like to lie down a bit, honey?" Lucinda asked and motioned towards the small hospital bed in the corner, shielded of from the rest of the room by a white screen. Ophelia nodded and Lucinda helped her get up and walk over to the bed. When she sat down on the bed, she kicked her sneakers off and lay down, looking at her, now white, hands with a sigh, before curling up with her back to the room and closing her eyes.

One hour later, she still hadn't slept.

The bell rung and, some minutes later, a polite knock sounded on the door. Jonathan Crane walked in and sent nurse Lucinda a charming smile.

,, Hi. How is she?" he asked in a silent voice, not wanting to wake the non-sleeping girl.

,, She's been asleep for an hour now... Tell me, professor, do you know of any reason for why she wanted to hurt herself?" Ophelia could hear Crane shake his head.

,, No, but I thought I'd drive her home. Maybe we could get a talk along the way."

,, That sounds like a good idea." Lucinda walked over behind the screen and gently shook Ophelia by the shoulder. Ophelia did her best to look like she had been sleeping, but she somehow felt Crane knew she had been listening to them all along.

,, Are you ready to go home now, Ophelia?" Ophelia nodded and slung her legs over the side of the bed, reaching down for her shoes while Lucinda walked back to retrieve something from her desk. When Ophelia had, after a great deal of trouble courtesy her bandaged fingers, laced her sneakers, she stood up and straightened her sweater, looking at the left cuff, where the dark green material now was crusted brown with her dark blood. Lucinda walked back and handed her a card.

,, Here. If you ever feel bad, I want you to promise me to call this number here, okay?" it was the number for a suicide hot line. Ophelia groaned on the inside and stuffed the card in her back pocket.

,, I promise." she smiled.

,, Good. Now, professor Crane has offered to give you a ride back home, and I think it would be best if you did. You should still rest a bit, right?" Ophelia would have preferred to walk home barefoot, but nodded and followed Crane, like a puppy. As they passed by her locker, she stopped to gather her books, which had been kicked around by people walking along, and stuffed them in her locker, before grabbing her bag and following Crane again.

Out in the grey parking lot, where an icy wind blew and cut to the bone, professor Crane led the way to his car, a black, sleek thing Ophelia didn't know the brand of, and he opened the door for her to get in the passenger's seat. Once there, she buckled up and pulled her legs up to her chin, hugging her bag as close as she could and starring out of the window. Professor Crane got in the driver's seat and looked at her.

,, Where do you live?" he asked. Ophelia told him the name of the street and the number of her house, and Crane started the car.

The ride from the university, through Gotham to the small store went silent, none of them talking. Ophelia just sat and starred out at the window, and Crane concentrated on the driving. It was amazing how two persons, divided by so little, could both sit and feel like they were standing on separate sides of a great valley. When Crane pulled the car over by the small shop, he turned if off and looked out at the black sign, which took up a great deal of space over the door and windows. In the bottom left corner of the sign lay a black and white magician's wand, alongside a pair of white gloves. In the right corner was a black, shiny top hat, with a deck of cards flying from it. From the wand oozed a golden and glittering smoke, which formed the letters of the shop rather elegantly, proclaiming the small shop to be _**Smoke and Mirrors**_. Crane arched an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. He looked at Ophelia, who sat and looked at the shop with something loving in her eyes, still not saying a word. After a long time, Ophelia finally sighed and unbuckled.

,, I'm not suicidal." she announced softly, not looking at Jonathan as she spoke. _Like he cared...!_

,, I still need that report on Monday." Crane said. Ophelia sat in a deep silence for a second or two, then opened the door and got out, slamming it a bit too loudly after her. Jonathan watched her unlock the door and walk into the shop, sending him one final glare before disappearing into a room at the back.

He started his car and drove off.

**Longer chapter... I'm back on track! **

**Ah, a review would be the icing on the cake. Mmnnn, cake... One minute, I'll be back soon...**


	5. Chapter 5

Five.

Thursday Ophelia didn't turn up in school.

Jonathan noticed that quite quickly, since Mouse Hooper sat alone in the classroom and Sabrina and Rufus made several jokes about Ophelia probably being "caught up" in something. The session took forever.

Afterwards, professor Crane asked Sabrina and Rufus to stay behind, something utterly predatorily lurking in his blue eyes. When the door was closed and he was alone with the two of them, he ran a hand through his dark hair and looked from one to the other. Rufus was a big boy, about half a head taller than Crane, but Jonathan moved with such an authority that everyone around him seemed four inches tall.

,, Since none of you seem to take any great interest in the class, I have decided to dismiss both of you." he said coolly, enjoying the looks on their faces.

,, What?" Sabrina said.

,, Why?" Rufus joined in.

,, Because, putting the fact that not one of you can come up with something you haven't memorised from the book you have been given, you are both rude, egocentric and you think yourself above the rest. I won't tolerate things like that in my classes, so I find dismissing the both of you the best way to rid myself of that problem." Sabrina looked like she was about to cry and Rufus as if he was seconds from bashing Jonathan's head down his stomach, but they never got a chance to do so.

,, You can both go now." he said and they left the room, heads drooping and shoulders hunched.

*

When Jonathan Crane drove towards the small bookshop, he thought to himself it would be a good idea for him to check up on Ophelia, seeing that she wasn't dangling by the neck from a rope in the ceiling or something of the sorts. Not that he thought she was suicidal, but just to be sure... Which made Jonathan Crane uneasy, since he usually always trusted his gut feeling. Analyzing Ophelia in his mind, she seemed nothing like a suicide risk, but he thought it important to see her nevertheless.

Pulling up by the shop, he turned the car off, but didn't move to get out. Just as he unbuckled, his astonishingly blue eyes caught sight of Ophelia through the windows of the shop, the girl moving around and seemingly working on several different things at the same time. First she sat down by the counter and slammed, almost furiously, her fingers down on the keys of and old typewriter, writing a line or two, before grabbing a book from a box on the counter, leafing through it before writing something on a small white sticker, which she put on the back of the book and then scribbled something down in a huge book with a ball point pen. Then she took the book, with four or five others, and walked around the shop and placed them on the shelves. Then back to the counter and do the same all over again.

After having sat and watched her for some time, Jonathan Crane finally got out and walked up to the small door, confirming the sign in the window said _Open _before he entered, the brass bell over the door announcing his arrival by a small _pling_, like taken out of a Dickens tale.

,, Sorry for the mess, I know how it must look... Just look around, and ask if there's anything I can help with..." she looked up from the typewriter, saw that it was Crane, and her lips pursed.

,, Oh." she said, then went back to whatever she was writing, ignoring Crane with the most jolly persistence. He walked up to the counter and gave her one of his smiles, stupid know-it-all-smiles he always used. When he finally seemed to smile, why did he have to look like he had just cornered you with a knife in his hand? Ophelia looked up from what she was writing, fingers still resting on the letters.

,, Psychology?" he asked in his cool, smarter-than-you voice.

,, First floor, third shelf at the top." Ophelia pointed vaguely to a dark wooden staircase in the corner, spiralling up to another level of the shop, where more bookshelves stood, shoulder by shoulder, and a strong railing making sure you wouldn't tumble to the ground. He smiled a thanks and walked up the stairs, Ophelia now examining another book for damages before putting a price on it and writing author and title down in the huge book with the yellowed pages, before putting it aside for later. She got the books from a variety of recycling stores around the streets she lived in, and each time a new box got delivered with the post, she coul-d hear the books whisper to her through the cardboard. And now, with the knowledge of professor Crane walking around above her, she couldn't write on her report; one never could with the teacher breathing down your neck.

_This isn't fair!_ Ophelia thought. Her bookshop was her sanctuary, but now Crane had invaded that as well. What could she have left?

She decided to take the books she had approved and stack them on the shelves, a bit of walking around would maybe clear her mind. After having given two history books and a book on Kurt Cobain a new place to stand, she groaned when she discovered the next book to be one on medicine. The shelf with medical books was up beside the books on psychology. She wondered if she should leave the book for late on, for when Crane had left the store, but then cursed herself and walked up the staircase. This was _her _store and Crane was _not _going to drive her out of it.

She walked up to the shelves, defiantly, and looked at Crane, who stood with a book on defining human emotions, and turned the page now and again.

,, Are you going to buy that?" Ophelia asked as she put the medicine book down beside its comrades, not liking sitting and crouching near Crane. It seemed so... Odd.

,, I might purchase it."

,, Well, this isn't a library; either you buy it or you leave it." normally she had nothing against people standing and reading through the books, she knew how easy it was to get caught by the inked words, but Crane wasn't people: he was Crane. And it felt good digging her heels in and order him around, for once.

Crane's blue eyes moved from the book to Ophelia's dark orbs and he slowly, like some sort of snake, took a step forward, causing Ophelia to take one step back. When the small of her back bumped against the railing and her fingers wrapped around it, only one thought raced through her head.

_I'm going to die. _and then the thought brought some friends in.

_He's just going to push me out over the side... He could do it. _and all the while, Crane moved closer, his blank killer eyes glowing coldly in the shadows of Ophelia's small shop. When he stood so close their breaths mixed and there was nowhere to look but the other's eyes, Crane held the book up under her nose and spoke in his cool voice.

,, Well, then I am forced to purchase it, right?" with that, he slammed the book close and Ophelia jumped. He pulled back and turned back round to the shelf with psychology books, leaving Ophelia to herself. After a couple of deep breaths, her cheeks burning with the all too familiar feeling of blushing, she turned and walked back down the stairs and began sorting through the books again.

After having, to her great joy, approved a huge box filled with old Dickens stories, professor Crane walked up to the counter with that chilling smile again, putting two books down in the scatter of other books. Ophelia really wished some other customer came into the shop, so she wasn't alone with Crane. But it early and she hardly got any customers at that time. Actually, she thought bitterly when she wrote a receipt for the two books, the one about defining human emotions under a psychological eye and one about fears and phobias, with the catchy title _Fear Of The Dark_, Crane was her first customer that day.

,, 2,50." she said as she tore the receipt from the notepad. Actually, Jonathan hadn't that may money on him that day, so he handed her a five dollar bill he found crumpled in the pocket of his blue suit trousers. And, for once, it felt good to give the change back to the person, even if that person just so happened to be Jonathan Crane, professor at Gotham University and class A jerk. As she handed him the money, their fingers brushed softly against each other. And even thought Ophelia was used to that with other customers, it now felt more uncomfortable and awkward. She stuffed the two books in a paper bag, with the outer side dyed black and the inside painted gold, and handed it to Crane with some eagerness, knowing that he would leave as soon as he had the books... Or so she thought.

,, Thank you. Now, all formalities aside, how are you feeling?" Crane asked. Ophelia was about to shot a_ what?! _but stopped herself. Now her goal was to get Crane out of the shop in a hurry.

,, Fine, thank you." she said and hoped he would settle for that. He didn't.

,, Actually, I think it would be best to talk more... Privately, miss Cressida." Ophelia looked at him, stated that he wasn't going to go away right now, and sighed deeply, openly showing she didn't have the time or patience for him, as she got up from the seat behind the counter and walked to the window, turning the small sign so it said _Closed _and locked the door. She let out another deep sigh as she turned back round and looked at Crane, who, in turn, looked right back at her.

In the daylight from the street outside, the deep red shine in Ophelia's hair really showed, Jonathan couldn't help but notice. It suited her.

,, Well... Guess you'll have to come with me then." she said and walked back around the counter, to a door with another black sign with gold lettering, saying _Private _and pressed down the ornate brass handle. She turned and looked at Jonathan.

,, Come on." he put the paper bag with his books down on the counter and followed her obediently.

At first, Jonathan thought Ophelia had brought him to the storeroom of the shop. There were books _everywhere. _But as Ophelia turned on the light in the ceiling, he saw that it was actually some sort of apartment. In the left corner, almost pressed down as if it wasn't that important, was a queen size brass bed, with books stuck in the swirling pattern the bed had been shaped into. The covers and sheets were all white and clean, though ruffled and untidy. Further away from the bed, in the middle of the room, stood a long oak table, with a few white painted chairs standing around it. The whole table and the chairs were crammed with books; there even stood a few piles under the furniture. And, furthest to the right, was a very small kitchen, holding a long counter, a sink, a refrigerator and a single hot plate and a kettle. There were a few cupboards along the right wall, most likely containing long last food and plates and the sorts. Even there, the counter had a few books tossed onto it. It looked as if, where other homes collected dust, Ophelia's collected books. Ophelia herself stood in that way some women did, with her arms crossed over her chest and hip cocked slightly to one side.

,, You want anything? Water? Tea? Coffee?" she turned around and walked for the kitchen.

,, Cyanide?" she mumbled for herself.

,, Tea, thank you." Jonathan said, and then went back to studying the room. Along the walls were shelves nailed sturdily into them, with books, of course, and knick-knacks and the sorts. The books holders on these shelves were everything, from books lying down, to empty candleholders, to a pair of quite elaborate dragons, standing and pushing the books on place with their front legs. At the left wall, the one where Ophelia's bed stood, was one huge bookshelf, where a book holder would be useless, since every shelf was packed so closely with book he wondered if Ophelia even was able to wedge one from the shelf. Up, far above the table in the middle, sat a small window, not really useful for anything but giving a nice view of the wall of the next building. Having taken in the room to the fullest, Jonathan now began to watch Ophelia thoughtfully, as she walked around the kitchen and made tea. She put two mugs on the counter and poured water in the kettle, then walked up to one of the cupboards and opened it, standing on her toes to reach a tin with a pair of Japanese bridges on the sides, and put that down on the counter as well. Then she noticed Jonathan watching her and stopped to glare back, while the water boiled.

,, How are your fingers?" he asked, still coldly and stiffly, like he always spoke. Ophelia looked at her hands.

,, Great, never been better, top notch." she held her hands out for herself to inspect.

,, Looks like something from The fucking Mummy, but besides that, great...!" she pulled the emerald green sleeve of her shirt a bit down, so it covered where the compress made her left wrist look bigger than the right.

,, May I ask you a question?"

,, You're a teacher; that's what you do, isn't it?" she mumbled as she popped the lid of the tin and put a teabag down in each cup.

,, Why is your shop called something as... Interesting as _Smoke and Mirrors_?" that actually caused a small smile to appear on Ophelia's face, even though she didn't look up from pouring the water in the cups. Then again, when you're working with scolding hot water, it's probably not the best idea to look away.

,, I inherited it from my great uncle; he sold magician-stuff. You know, like top hats and coloured scarves and trick cards and all. When he died, when I was ten, my family inherited the shop." she walked over and began clearing away books from two of the chairs, and tried to make some space on the table.

,, And then I took it over. And I couldn't be bothered with changing the sign." she walked back to the kitchen and stirred the tea.

,, Do you take it with sugar or anything?" Ophelia asked and regretted it the second she had said it, since she had just run out of sugar the day before.

,, No." she took the two bags and put them in the sink.

,, Tea's done." she walked over and handed him one cup and then walked back and sat down on one of the chairs. Jonathan walked after and sat down as well. They drank it in silence, none of them finding anything to say. Then...

,, And your family?"

,, Last time I checked, they were in Milan." Jonathan raised an eyebrow.

,, We kinda drifted apart when I was younger. And don't give me that look."

,, And what look would that be?" Jonathan asked and took another sip of the tea, the warms water feeling too hot against his lips.

,, Analyzing whether I'm crazy or not. We parted on the best of terms, believe me."

,, Do you miss them?"

,, They are my family: sometimes." she emptied her tea.

,, And now where you've stated I'm alive, shouldn't you be on your merry way?" Jonathan could feel she was getting annoyed with him and his questions, so he drank the last tea and got up. Ophelia led him to the front of the store and unlocked the door for him, whilst Jonathan grabbed the bag on the counter and followed her in his smooth stride.

,, And I still need that report on Monday." he said when he was outside.

,, Yeah, fine, I'll give you that damn report." she sighed and closed the door on him, waiting until he'd drove away, before turning the sign in the window and walked back to the work she had left.

And on Friday morning she handed in sixteen pages, written on both sides of the paper, with footnotes and references, all written in black typewriter ink.

**Okay, I found some cake... And I am willing to post a virtual piece of it to everyone who reviews!:D**


	6. Chapter 6

Six.

Ophelia scooped up another massive spoonful of ice cream and paid no heed to the substantial headache the ice was giving her.

,, Keep eating like that and you'll get the mother of all ice cream headaches." Rose said and took another, significantly smaller bite of her own ice.

,, I'm already a good half-way there." Ophelia said and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, before continuing eating. The two girls were sitting in Ophelia's small apartment, at the oak table, and enjoying separately a round of _Fruity Vanilla _and _Chocolate Cloud _ice cream. It was Saturday and none of them had any significant amount of homework lying and waiting for them. Ophelia had just explained why she thought it would be a good idea staying away from Rufus (not mentioning the getting-stuffed-in-the-locker incident.) and Rose had agreed, since Rufus hadn't spoken one word to her, actually ignoring her, since Tuesday.

,, He's been hanging too much with Sabrina. It's not healthy." Rose said between globs of ice. Ophelia had her mouth too full to answer, so she just nodded and waited for the ice to melt. They sat for some time, talking about this and that, about school and boys and rockstars and actors and books and everything else they could put their fingers on. Then Rose's cell phone rung and she picked it up, trying to talk with her mouth full without being indecent.

,, Yeah? What, now? So soon? But I thought I got to... It's that late? Fine, I'm on my way." she turned the phone off and looked at Ophelia with apologetic eyes.

,, I'm so, so sorry, but my mom says I have to come home... It's my cousins wedding and..." Ophelia brushed off the rest of the sentence with a wave of her hand.

,, Of course, you just go. I need to go to the bank before it closes anyway." Rose thanked and hurriedly took her leave, whilst Ophelia cleared away the ice cream and grabbed a black handbag, filing it up with money from her small safe in the corner, where it stood well hidden with towers of books flanking it and an old, battered radio on the top. Ophelia hated to got to the bank; as if people could see the money she was carrying around on. And in cities like Gotham, it was a very bad idea to get mugged. People usually died, even if they handed over their cash on demand. Still, she pulled on her coat and walked out of the shop, with the bag dangling casually from her right arm, heading for the subway. Two stops later, she got off and returned to street level. Her hair was for once not tied up, it just hung down over her back and rushed and flowed in the air outside. When a truck drove past her, the air from it sent her hair flowing in her face, blinding her completely. She stopped and ran her fingers through it, before walking on, locks of wavy hair still dancing before her eyes. As she reached up and brushed one aside, she didn't watch where she was going, and slammed into a person walking in the opposite direction of the one she was, causing her to drop the valuable bag on the sidewalk.

Gotham was a huge city; vast even. It was filled with people and the thousands of streets should provide more than plenty of space for all of them. So it made Ophelia wish to get hit by something huge, a train, and end up like a stain of blood, like in The Canterville Ghost, and curse the day she had bumped into professor Crane on the street. Literally, bumped into.

,, Oh, great...!" she muttered and closed her rolling eyes while Crane bent down and picked up her bag, handing it to her, along with that smile again.

,, Miss Cressida, you're in a frightful hurry." and the way he talked...! Ophelia snatched the bag and held it close to her chest, as if Crane wanted to steal it.

,, Yeah, things to do and all that..." she blew another lock of hair away from her face.

,, Sorry for trying to tackle you..." she held up her bag.

,,... Thanks." and she walked away. Not that Jonathan would have any of it, of course: he turned and followed.

,, Going somewhere interesting?" he asked when he caught up with her. Ophelia, still clutching her bag to her chest, tried to walk faster without making it look like she was increasing her pace just to get away from Crane. She rolled her eyes and groaned.

,, Don't you have a place to be? Someone to harass?"

,, Actually, I was on my way to see you, so there'd be no point in doing so now, when you are here." Ophelia turned her head and looked at Crane shortly.

,, Me?"

,, Yes, I thought it best to hand back your report in private."

"_hand back"? _As if it was lousy and he wanted nothing to do with it.

,, Why?"

,, It's a fine piece of work, so I would just like to congratulate you on a job well done." Ophelia stopped and her eyes moved over Jonathan's face, as if she could detect him lying simply by that. But no, it was still his cool, blank and closed expression, like a book with a lock on it.

,, Really?" realising they were holding up other persons walking, Jonathan took her delicately by the left elbow and began walking, leading Ophelia with him. She shook his hand off.

,, Yes, it was quite the pager turner." wow. Professor Jonathan Crane tried to make a joke. The way he smiled when he said it told Ophelia it was a friendly joke, even though it should have been impossible for her to read him. Maybe the lock on the book wasn't that complicated again.

,, Good to know. Now, if you'll excuse me." Ophelia said and turned abruptly into the bank they were walking beside, her hair slapping Crane across the face, neither hard nor soft, and left him on the street.

Inside the bank she, as quickly as anything could be done in a bank, put her money in on her account and took her leave. Back outside, she stated that Crane was gone, and turned the corner to a small café she sometimes sat it. It was the kind of café where the customers always sat with either a book or a notebook, the sound of pencils and pens scribbling and pages getting turned mixing with the general café-noise, like cups clinkering and spoons stirring. Ophelia walked in and sat down by one of the small two-man tables in the corner, the chairs in the café being soft and lounge-like, pulling off her black coat and nodding friendly to the waitress.

,, Just a cup of cappuccino, please." she said and smiled to the young waitress, who couldn't be much older than herself, as she walked off with Ophelia's order. But then, like a bad penny, who strode in but Jonathan Crane? Ophelia felt a sudden need to slam her head against the table she was sitting at, either until she passed out or passed away. Whatever came first.

With that self-centred smile of his, Jonathan walked over and sat down in the chair opposite Ophelia.

,, I hope you won't mind me sitting here?" he asked. Ophelia shook her head.

,, No, not at all, I'll just find another place to sit." she was about to stand up when Jonathan snapped open the clasps on his briefcase and pulled out Ophelia's report, handing it to her with his killer smile and cold eyes. Ophelia took it and looked at the grade in the top right corner, written in red ink. It always looked so angry. Ophelia sometimes wondered if the teachers used purple or green or any other colour than red, if that colour would be thought angry as well, or if it was only the red.

_A-_ Ophelia chuckled.

,, Something funny I missed?"

,, No, it's just so like you. Even when you praise something to the sky, that A+ is never going to be wrenched from your cold, dead hands."

,, It would have been an A+, if you had handed it in the day I told you to." her brows crinkled as she folded up the report and stuffed it in her pocket, where it made a bulge.

,, Nobody likes a teacher's pet, miss Cressida, you should know that." Ophelia's jaw dropped.

,, Not even the teacher." Crane finished with a smirk. If the waitress hadn't seen that second as her cue and had walked up with Ophelia's coffee, Ophelia was convinced she would have punched Crane in the face.

,, Can I get you anything?" she asked Jonathan, who gave her yet another one of his charming smiles.

,, A glass of water, if you'd be so kind." she waitress blushed and sent Ophelia a look both women and men had to share with their own sex, even though it varied from one gender to the other.

It was the infamous _He's a keeper _look. When Crane turned back to look at Ophelia, she sat with both elbows resting on the table and the cup in her hands, taking a deep sip and watching Crane with dark eyes.

,, Brooding?" he asked with a small grin.

,, Let us just get one thing perfectly straight, Crane." Ophelia said as she put the cup down and leaned closer in over the table. Usually, it was professor Crane, but now they were outside the school. In the real world, empty labels did you nothing good.

,, No matter what you think, I am no fucking teacher's pet...! Least of all yours." she hissed, her eyes burning like the freshly polished door to the police station.

Crane chose not to answer that, and just chuckled softly. Then the waitress came up with Crane's water, filled with ice cubes and the essential slice of lemon.

,, Will you be paying separately?" she asked.

,, Yes." Ophelia said, but Crane already had his wallet out and handed her some money.

,, Keep the rest as tips." he offered. The waitress looked at Ophelia again, this time with the _Go marry him _look, before she walked off, sending Jonathan long glances along the way. Ophelia growled silently when she dug through her pockets until she found what she considered being enough money for the coffee and almost threw them at Crane, who sat and sipped his water, cold eyes watching her through his glasses, and stood up with her cheeks burning. This time with anger.

,, I'm not letting you pay for me." she said and pulled on her coat, swiping her hair so it wouldn't get caught between the coat and her back. She grabbed her now empty bag and stomped angrily out of the door. Jonathan just leaned back in his chair and took another sip of his water.

**I can think of nothing to write... But now there is something written... Hhmmnnn, how did that happen?**

**I am sort of in a dead end, so a small inspiring review would be fantastic!:)**


	7. Chapter 7

Seven.

Sunday Ophelia found the bloodied white handkerchief Jonathan had used to stop her bleeding with, tucked down in her pocket beside the card to the hot line Lucinda had given her. She walked out into her small kitchen and held it under the water until the crusted blood had rinsed away. As she wrung it, she began to wonder who walked around with proper fabric handkerchiefs these days? She took a small iron from the box under the kitchen table, the one she used to iron out wrinkles in her nice clothes, the ones she wore at weddings and the types, and ironed the hankie, wondering now why the hell she went through all this trouble for Crane.

_Maybe because he helped me that day... _she thought as she folded the handkerchief and placed it inside her textbook, so she would remember it the next day.

*

On Monday morning, during his lesson, professor Crane walked around to each single table with a piece of A5 paper, placing the blank page in front each of his students. Ophelia immediately felt the crawling need to doodle something down, to fill out the whiteness.

,, On this paper..." Crane said as he walked back to the blackboard, hands folded on his back and eyes swooping from one student to another.

,,... I want you to write your name and your deepest, in your opinion, fear. That one little phobia that makes your blood run cold. Then you are to hand them back to me." Rose and Ophelia looked each other in the eyes and shrugged. What was that supposed to be good for? The wonder could be felt amongst all of the students, but nevertheless they wrote something down.

After they had handed them in, a debate was started on what was best: a world where nobody feared or a world where everybody feared.

After the bell had rung, Ophelia moved up to the blackboard where Crane stood and wiped the things he had written down during the class away. She waited politely until he turned around and confirmed via visual means, that she hadn't left yet.

,, Ah, good you stayed behind, miss Cressida, I do believe I have something for you..." he stuck a hand in the pocket of his grey suit and pulled out a handful of coins; the exact same Ophelia almost had tossed at him in the café. He handed them to her, before she had time to say she didn't want the money.

,, I don't want them; it's payment for the coffee you bought." she said, the sentence tasting utterly strange since she stood with the money already in her hand. She tried to give them back, but it was like her efforts were invisible to Jonathan. Finally she sighed, cursed herself for going through all the trouble ironing his idiotic handkerchief, as she pulled it from her book, which she had been standing with under her left arm, where the heavy bandage and compress still sat around her wrist as a useless and ugly bracelet, and wrapped it around the coins, tossing it onto Crane's attaché, which was lying on the table.

,, Here... Thanks for letting me borrow it..." and with that, she turned her back on him and walked out of the classroom, feeling a small sense of victory rise in her chest; she had won the battle over the payment for the coffee. Not a great victory indeed, but every little bit helps.

*

Later that day, however, Ophelia realised she had commenced her celebration for The Victory Of The Paid Coffee too soon. When she sat in her shop, writing out a receipt for the Preschool Teacher, a woman in her mid-thirties, who always dressed in huge colourful patterns and had her black hair tied up with coloured ribbons and smelled like crayons and finger-paint, who now had purchased another massive load of picture books and easy readers, the bell over the door rung and she looked up by habit. Jonathan Crane.

_Too fucking great to be true...! _she spat in her mind as she handed Teacher her bags.

,, Here, that should keep them reading for a while." she said and smiled. As Preschool Teacher walked for the door, arms full of books, Jonathan stepped kindly up and held the door for her. Ophelia rolled her eyes at the gentlemanly urban chivalry displayed by Crane, then smiled as a new customer, a little boy with his father by the hand, walked up and stood on his toes, so he could look up over the counter.

,, Do you have that book with the old knight and the dragon who grows bananas?" he asked, his brown eyes reminding Ophelia of a small puppy she'd once seen in a pet shop.

,, Uh, it's an old picture book..." the dad said.

,, He borrowed it at the library and hasn't stopped talking about it since. I think it's called..."

,, Sir Percy and the Dragon." Ophelia said with a smile and nodded, still keeping an eye on Crane, who was walking up the spiralling staircase in the corner.

,, I know it. I think I have a copy somewhere... Hold on." she pulled out the huge book, the one with the blue hardcover and the yellowed pages, and flipped through it until she found the author's name.

,, Leetham, Leetham... Let's see..." she moved a finger down over the page, feeling the small boy's hopeful eyes on her, as if she would determine whether or not she wanted to give him the book. Vaguely, she also felt someone looking down at her from the railing above, but she promptly ignored it.

,, I do have one left, but it's in the storage..." she got up, the little boy looking at her with confused eyes, the strange word storage printed in his eyes. _Storage_... Was that a good or a bad thing?

,,... I'll just go and get it. In the meantime, look around, see if you would like something else, okay?" she said to the small boy, who said okay in turn before dragging his father over to one of the shelves. Ophelia chuckled and walked over to a small door, hidden in the wall behind the staircase, and walked into a dark windowless room. She turned on the light and the light bulbs dangling in the ceiling flickered tiredly, before steadying their glow. The room contained twenty-six wooden boxes, lining the walls, not really that big, each with a paper pinned to its front with a letter from the alphabet. She walked over to 'L' and looked down at the spines of the books lovingly, like a mother watching her sleeping baby. Like the rest of the shelves of her bookshop, every manner of book was to be found in the box. There were hardcovers and paperbags, some well read, some never read, some old and some new. There were fine old books with strong paper and heavy lettering, and there was new, almost freshly printed ones. There were also a slim children's book stuck in now and again, and Ophelia quickly found the one she was looking for. She pulled the book free, her smile widening slightly when she saw the cover, and she walked out of the room again, switching the light off on the way.

,, Here we are." she said to the small boy, who almost jumped back to the counter, his father still getting dragged behind.

,, That will be 50 cent." Ophelia said, writing a receipt and pulling out a paper bag at the same time. The father began digging through his pockets and pulled out a shining coin. The little boy reached up.

,, I want to pay!" he said and jumped for the coin, which his father handed to him and the boy, in turn, handed it to Ophelia, who gave him the bag in exchange.

,, Thank you. Pleasure doing business with you." she said and waved at the little boy at the door, when he waved goodbye to her. Then Ophelia noticed she was alone in the shop. Well, almost.

,, You can be quite charming at times, miss Cressida." Crane stated with icy humour in his voice, the man himself standing up by the railing like a dictator overlooking the crowds, standing with a book in one hand and looking at its pages instead of Ophelia.

,, Either buy something or hit the road." Ophelia said as she opened the register and tossed the coin down into the small case made for it, where it lay with its little coin brothers and sisters.

,, Yet I somehow get the feeling the charm wears off when you are talking to me."

,, Sherlock Holmes has met his match then." she mumbled under her breath as she put the huge notebook back under the counter. Crane walked down the stairs and placed the books he had found on the desk. More of those psychology books, and a book on toxic plants. Creepy-Crane indeed.

Ophelia began writing a proof of payment, but Crane pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket, with something in it, and placed it beside the books and pulled in a corner, like a magician did on sage when he wanted to show that the hat was now empty. The money Ophelia had given him earlier, which were just what the books cost. He gave Ophelia a charming and, was it triumphant or teasing, smile, and Ophelia made a tired sound as she sniffed and stuffed the books in the bag, wanting to stick out her tongue and maybe even kick Crane across the shin. She wanted to crack the lock on the cover of the book, and see what was underneath. Something human.

,, I was wondering if you by any chance would be serving another cup of tea?" he said.

,, No, not today, so sorry. Come back tomorrow." she had said that as a joke, but somehow feared Crane would take it seriously.

_I just __**had **__to say it, hadn't I?! _

,, I will then."

,, You know I was only kidding. I'm not a homeless shelter, you can't just pop inside and hope for a cup of tea." Ophelia curled up her toes in her shoes by the way Crane looked at her. Cold, mocking and... Either angry or hungry.

,, I am just checking up on you to make sure you won't do anything foolish, like hurting yourself."

,, Yeah..." Ophelia got up and walked to the door, Crane walking casually beside her. When he was out of the door, Ophelia looked him in the eyes.

,,... If you're lonely, then go buy a cat." and then she slammed to door and locked it. And turned the sign in the window.

**Disclaimer: No, I don't own any rights. **

**Note: The book Sir Percy and the Dragon is a wonderful children's book I read when I was wee. It's written by Helen Leetham and she owns all the rights:D**


	8. Chapter 8

Eight.

Tuesday, when the thirteen students walked into the classroom, the first thing they noticed was the cold. All the windows had been opened and the air outside had chilled the room sufficiently. Up by the blackboard Crane's desk had been pushed out to the side and a small pillar of large concrete bricks now stood there instead, stacked on each other in a height of about one foot. The thirteen students looked at each other and shrugged and mumbled to one another.

,, There is no way that Crane has moved them on his own." Ophelia said to the group and nodded towards the bricks.

,, Indeed so, miss Cressida?" Ophelia could quite happily had jumped out of one of the, now conveniently open windows, when Crane entered the classroom and looked at her.

,, And why would that be?"

_Besides the fact that you _

_A: Never would lower yourself to drag bricks around, and_

_B: I bet each and everyone of those things weigh about the same as you?_ Ophelia thought but she didn't say anything and Crane walked on. The students took their seats and looked up at their teacher.

,, Grace Williams." per instinct, the class turned and looked at Grace, who sat and looked nervously around.

,, Front of the class, if you please." Ophelia didn't know what to make of Grace, if she was good or bad: but she had borrowed her a pencil once and they had laughed at each other's jokes. So she wasn't so bad.

Grace slowly got up and walked nervously to the blackboard, where Crane stood and smiled at her with his icy smile. There was something diabolical in that smile.

,, Come on, there's nothing to be scared of, I can assure you." he said and pulled a red silk scarf from a inner pocket in his jacket.

,, Now, to make this work, none of you are to speak a single word, understood?" Crane said to the class, who nodded silently, all of them curious to see what was coming next.

,, Where do you think he got that from?" Ophelia whispered to Rose and pointed towards the scarf, and they both giggled.

,, That includes you, miss Cressida. If you can't hold your tongue you will have to leave." Grace looked at her comrades nervously, before professor Crane walked up and tied the scarf around her head, blinding her and shielding her green eyes from the rest of the class.

,, Can you see anything now, Grace?" funny. Crane actually spoke to someone, using their first name. It was very unlike him.

,, Not a thing." Grace said with a small chuckle, like it was some sort of game. But the look on Crane's face made Ophelia uneasy. He turned to the class and held a finger to his lips, telling them to be quiet. Then he turned and took Grace by the hand, his slim fingers gently wrapping around hers.

,, You'll have to trust me here Grace, I promise I won't let go until you think you are ready, okay?"

"_Grace"? "Trust me"? "Promise"? "Okay"? What's with the fancy words now? _Ophelia thought, wondering if it was a good idea for Crane to lock fingers with Grace, who had an obvious crush on Crane, and was now shaking slightly and jumped when Crane led her over to the bricks. He helped her to lift her feet up, one after the other, and stand up on the pillar, where she stood and swayed a bit from side to side.

,, Can you stand for yourself now?" he asked and Grace giggled again.

,, Yeah." he let go of her hand and stepped back. He turned to his students again and once more motioned for them to be quiet. Again, the look in his yes caused Ophelia's toes to curl up involuntarily.

,, Good Grace, now I want you to concentrate.

You're at a trip with the school. You're at Wayne towers. The whole class has been brought right up to the top of the building, and you're all standing on the edge, right up by the fence." it suddenly turned colder in the room, like Crane's voice was as cold as his eyes. Grace wasn't giggling anymore. Then Ophelia understood; the windows were open so the air and noises from the outside could reach them. The rustle of the leaves in the trees in the grounds around the university and, further away, the sounds of cars and general city noise.

,, Suddenly you look around and realise that you are all alone. Everyone else has gone back down, it's just you now." Grace was shaking now, and Ophelia didn't think it was from the cold.

,, The wind's moving around you, and far below you see the cars drive by, they are nothing more than little dots of colour. You lean up against the fence and try to look further down. Over your head there's an aeroplane passing by. Suddenly the fence starts to give." Grace stepped back and almost toppled from the stones from the floor. Ophelia noticed the scarf was getting darker around the points of Grace's eyes. She was crying.

,, You manage to pull back just in time..." Crane's voice was amazing. Ophelia wished she'd brought a book along and made him read from it. She felt like she herself was standing on the roof.

,,... the fence fall to the pavement below. You can hear a loud crash. And now you're standing just on the threshold. The tips of your shoes are just by the edge of the building." no one in the class spoke. Crane's voice was the only thing to be heard over the sounds from the street. Suddenly Crane shifted his stance, standing more ordering and dominating. He was standing, quite casually, with his hands in his pocket, looking up at Grace, who was now standing and shaking, her arms wrapped around herself and her breathing coming in gasps. She was really crying now.

,, Grace, I want you to take one step forward." Ophelia was about to shout no herself, she was almost convinced that Grace was balancing in the edge of one of the tallest buildings in Gotham. Grace shook her head and hugged herself tighter.

,, No."

,, Grace, you have to do it. If you don't do it now, I will have to fail you."

,, I can't." she cried, choking her sobs.

,, I just can't."

,, Grace, you'll have to do it now." Grace crouched down on the stones, crying and shaking her head, sobbing and muttering to herself over and over again.

,, I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't do it."

,, Grace. Jump. Now."

,, Leave her alone!" Ophelia finally shouted and shot up from her seat, almost knocking back her chair on the way.

,, Can't you see you're scaring the hell out of her?!" she walked up and almost shouted Crane in the face.

,, Just leave her!" Crane looked Ophelia up and down, his eyes dissecting, scanning and measuring. Then he walked over to where Grace sat and untied the scarf and gently took the girl by the shoulders, helping her down and leading her back to her seat.

,, You may sit down as well, miss Cressida." he said without looking at Ophelia. Ophelia wanted to throw something after Crane, but didn't. With her cheeks and neck and ears burning, she angrily walked back to her chair and slumped down in it.

,, What we just have experienced with miss Williams, is the concept called mind over matter." Crane said as he walked back to the front of the class.

,, All of us perfectly knew that miss Williams wasn't anymore than a foot in the air, but with setting the right surroundings and using your own mind to convince someone that they are in their deepest fear, you can have control over them." he grabbed a piece of chalk and wrote a word down on the board.

_Aeroacrophobia_.

After the class all of the students left the room silently, none of them knowing what the hell to say. Grace was still sniffing from time to time, but she seemed... Okay.

As they stood by Rose's locker, Ophelia looked up when professor Crane walked past them, as cool as if nothing had happened. Their eyes caught and he sent her a small smile.

,, Jerk." she muttered.

*

It was Wednesday afternoon. Ophelia was dressed in a black turtleneck sweater and a long, dark green skirt. Her hair had been twisted into a decorative bun and around her neck was a thin silver chain with a small heart locket in it. Her eyes were lined with black and her lips were painted dark red.

She had been over at Rose's place, meeting with her wonderful family and getting an early dinner. Rose had two younger brothers who had been running around the dining table most of the time, but the rest of the family seemed to be okay by it. Rose's parents were friendly and Ophelia had really enjoyed herself. But, when living in Gotham, it was always an early dinner. You needed to get back home before it got too dark. And so, around five in the afternoon, Ophelia was now walking down the street from the bus stop towards the subway. The air was cold and she cursed herself for not having brought her coat along. Then tragedy struck: Ophelia had just turned a corner when a car drove quickly past her, driving through a huge water puddle from the rain last night. Not being prepared at all, and therefore not being able to dodge it, Ophelia quickly found herself soaked.

,, Idiot!" she shouted at the car, then a gust of chilly wind hit her in the face and she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to shield herself from the cold.

First she got stuffed in a locker; then she fled to the toilets to hide; and then a charging water puddle drenched her. Her life was a freaking afterschool special.

She looked around and noticed where she was; it was one of the posher parts of Gotham, with overprized apartments for the rich playboys and playbunnies. Then Ophelia got an idea. It was stupid and somewhat idiotic, but she was soaked and freezing. At the start of the year, all the students had been given a list with teacher information, phone numbers and addresses and the sorts.

Ophelia looked up at one of the buildings in the twilight. Then she sighed and walked towards it.

*

Jonathan Crane was sitting in his apartment, casually leaned back in a black leather chair, with a glass of wine in one hand and one of the books he had recently purchased in _**Smoke and Mirrors**_. He took another sip and flipped the page, reading a chapter on why people cried, when they were either happy or sad.

The doorbell rung and Jonathan groaned; after five in the evening, the only people visiting him were delusional girls from the university. Nevertheless, he put the glass and book down on the coffee table and walked to the door. He was wearing a pair of blue suit trousers and a white shirt. He had left his jacket slung over the back of the chair and his blue tie had been loosened, along with the top button of the shirt. He ran a hand through his dark hair and straightened his glasses, before opening the door.

He remembered once, as a kid, having seen a boy from first grade tossing a small kitten into the pond by his school. The small creature had survived and raced for the shore, where little Jonathan had been waiting for it and picked it up. About the same sight met him on the other side of the door, where Ophelia stood with her arms wrapped around herself and eyeliner and mascara running down over her cheeks. She was shaking with cold and looking at him with huge eyes, like the kitten.

When Ophelia saw Jonathan Crane open the door, she was utterly convinced that she shouldn't have done it. But she was freezing.

Jonathan looked her up and down and sighed. He stepped to the side.

,, Come in." he said tiredly.

Ten minutes later Ophelia sat in the leather couch, her cheeks free from the black smudge of make up. Her lips were still red, since she didn't find it necessary to remove a perfectly painted job too soon. Her black turtleneck was lying on the radiator and she sat in a white shirt Jonathan had borrowed her. He had been debating on whether or not to lend her one, since they were all good shirts, but he had found an old one he hadn't used for some time. She sat with a cup in her hand, filled with steaming dark tea, and her hair was slightly more fuzzy than usual.

,, I should thank you for this, but then you'd just be explaining how it's repayment for me giving you shelter." she said and took another sip. Jonathan, who was sitting in his chair again, nodded and gave her a smile.

,, It's good to know you have learned something from my classes, miss Cressida."

,, Yeah, beside scaring people from their wit." Ophelia was about to bite her tongue off, it wasn't very wise to speak against a teacher when he'd let you inside and provided you with a dry shirt and something warm to drink.

,, You were just as interested in the little demonstration yesterday as everybody else, miss Cressida. Being a hypocrite doesn't suit you very well." Ophelia glared at him, then looked down her tea and took another deep swig. For choking the silence which lay over the room, Jonathan got up and walked to the fashionable stereo, turning it on and letting a CD play. Soft jazz music flowed out through the speakers. When he sat down again, he saw that Ophelia was smiling softly down her tea.

,, I take it you know that song?" he asked and she nodded.

,, When I was a kid... I used to sit on the floor in my dad's music room while he played. And my mom would walk around downstairs and make dinner and the whole house would smell like roast chicken or pasta. And I would just sit and listen to my dad, with one ear to the floor so I could hear my mom as well. I think it's one my earliest memories."

,, When did you drift apart, as you put it?" she shrugged.

,, When I was... around the seventeen-eighteen, I think. They just found out there was a world to see and they still had some time. My dad got retired and could focus more on playing. I think he's doing a gig or two a week around Milan."

,, And you are happy with being left behind?"

,, They didn't leave me; I chose one path, they chose another. I told you, I'm fine with it."

,, Do you have any pictures in that locket?" Crane asked. Ophelia moved her hand up to it and touched it with her fingertips. She had removed the bandages yesterday, the scrapes being trivial and shallow now, even though her wrist was still thick with bandage.

,, Why?"

,, Well, if you are as happy with the arrangement as you say, you wouldn't be carrying pictures of your family around. If you miss them, of course, then..." Ophelia lifted the chain over her head and tossed it to Jonathan.

,, Catch." he did and opened it, holding it up so he could see it better. Inside it, on the right side, was a small landscape carved in the silver, hills and mountains with clouds overhead. On the left side there was nothing.

,, I am that vain and shallow that I carry a locket around without a picture in it. I have never found one that would suit it best." Ophelia said and scratched her head, causing more locks to loosen from her hair and fall down over her face and shoulders.

,, Vanity is the flaw of man." Crane said as he handed the locket back to her. Ophelia put it around her neck again and stood up. I'd better be going, it's already dark outside..."

,, I hardly think your sweater is dry yet."

,, It's dry enough." Ophelia said, angrier than she had meant it to be, as she walked past the radiator and grabbed the sweater along the way, before walking into the bathroom to change. As she changed, Jonathan got up and pulled on his jacket and straightened his tie. When Ophelia reappeared in her own shirt and with Crane's trimly folded under one arm, he gave her a soft smile and took it when she handed it to him.

,, I'll drive you home." he said.

,, No thank you, I'm good." she walked past him towards the door.

,, Sorry for spoiling your evening like this... But thanks for the tea." Jonathan lay his shirt down in the chair and followed Ophelia, as she was about to exit the apartment.

,, I said I would drive you home, so how about letting me do so?"

,, Because I don't need your help." Ophelia said and managed to snake around Crane out into the hall.

,, It's far too dark outside for you to be walking home alone. Just let me drive you." Jonathan said. Ophelia looked him up and down and then sighed.

,, Fine." she tried to make it sound tired, but in truth, she was happy for not having to walk home the streets of Gotham in darkness. She would be asking for something bad to happen.

They took the elevator down to the basement and Crane held the door for Ophelia to get into his car.

As they drove out into Gotham, Ophelia moved her hand up and untied her hair, before fitting it into a more loose, casual and comfortable bun. She hoped it looked like Virginia Woolf's, but it was hard to tell without a mirror. As they reached the street her shop was on, she told Crane he could just drop her off there, but he insisted on driving her all the way. And Ophelia had learned it never was a good idea getting out of a moving car. As they stopped by the shop and Ophelia unbuckled, Crane did as well.

,, Oh, come on...! The door's a few feet away, I'm not going to get mugged now!" she said.

,, Just to be safe." Crane announced when he got out of the car. Ophelia knocked her head against the head rest of her seat, but then got out as well. She walked up to the door, where Crane stood and waited for her patiently. She unlocked the door with the key from a pocket sown into her skirt and walked in, Crane ever so annoyingly following her.

,, There. I'm home and someone didn't try to rob me of my wallet or my panties along the way. I think we should call it a night, and thank you for driving me home." Ophelia said as she put the keys on the counter. When she turned around she almost bumped into Jonathan, who had been much closer to her than she had expected.

,, Geez, you gave me a fucking heart attack...!" she gasped and pressed a hand to her heart. Jonathan didn't say anything in return. One of his hands moved up and softly dug into her hair, holding her head in place. His other arm moved around her waist and pulled her closer.

,, Crane, what are you do..." more she couldn't say, as Jonathan titled her head carefully and pressed his lips to hers. Ophelia stiffened and tried to pull away, but Jonathan held her in place and... And... God, it was so hard to think! He pulled slightly back, still holding her in place, his eyes shining like stars.

,, Either you let go of me right now or I swear I'll..." Jonathan leaned in again, muttering something, which sounded exceedingly much like

,, _Shut up_." under his breath before he kissed her again. Ophelia realized just how hard it was to dislike a teacher who was kissing you.

_Oh God. He's my teacher-He's my teacher-He'smyteacher-He'smyteacher-He's... _Ophelia felt herself kissing back and found out that she was perfectly fine with kissing him. Her arms, though shaking and hesitant, lifted from their ridiculous dangling current positions down her sides, and moved up around his body, hands running over his back. And then, all too soon, Jonathan pulled back and at a snail's pace let go of her. Ophelia didn't hold him in place when he began moving out of her arms and straightened his glasses, which had been knocked out of angle, and spoke in an irritatingly calm voice.

,, I should be going." and he turned and left. Ophelia stood paralyzed for... What, an hour or a second? Then went and locked the door and walked into her apartment. She sat down on the bed, licking her lips as if savoring the taste of Jonathan, then kicked off her shoes and looked out into the empty room.

,, ...Fuck...!"

*

Jonathan stopped when the lights turned red and suddenly caught sight of himself in the back mirror. Dark red lipstick was smeared his left cheek, his chin and his lips. He wiped it off with the back of his hand and stepped on the accelerator until he reached the basement of his apartment building.

**Oh, the Drama! **

**A review would be great inspiration!:D **

**Thank you for all the reviews so far!:D**


	9. Chapter 9

Nine.

Ophelia didn't show up in school the next day. And even if she had, Jonathan would most likely have come visited her afterwards anyway. She was wearing the same outfit as the evening before, with her hair hanging down over her back and shoulders. She handed a bag of books to a woman who looked like the American portrait of a suburban housemother, who was blushing strongly as she left the shop. Ophelia chuckled and opened a freshly delivered box with books. One of the great things about spending a whole day in the shop, was the time you had for everything. She flipped through the first, where nothing was wrong except a dedication to _Eleanor on her seventh birthday from Mom._ It would do. Then the bell over the door rung and she looked up... And froze. Then her lips pursed, tighter than they had done before, and she got up and walked over to the window turning the sign. Then she walked up the staircase and nodded friendly to another customer, the only one in the shop besides Crane, and began searching for some book she didn't need. As Jonathan walked up behind her, her muscles tightened and her eyes focused only on the backs of the books.

,, May I ask you something?" he asked.

,, No you may fucking not." Ophelia said merrily and walked past him down the stairs again, helping the customer with getting a book down from the top shelf. She wrote out the receipt and wished there would be more customers to handle before dealing with Crane. She turned around and almost bumped into Jonathan again.

She choked a small gasp of surprise, then moved quickly around him and walked out further into the room. She didn't want to be too close to him, like she'd been last night.

,, What do you want?" she asked and crossed her arms tightly in front of her.

,, I was wondering if the two of us could maybe talk. About last night."

,, There's nothing to talk about. I'm quitting your class and that's it. We don't ever have to talk again." he walked up to her and she clenched her fists around her sweater, starring angrily at the floor before her. He took her by the upper arm and she looked up at him, eyes still narrow and dark.

,, Considering what happened, it might be wisest to go over it."

,, What is there to go over? I fell for one of your experiments and made a fucking fool out of myself." she tugged her arm free and turned her back on him, but he grabbed her and spun her back round.

,, You know, if you weren't my teacher, I'd probably rearrange your teeth by now." he tightened his grip on her arm, making her twist under his touch.

,, Do you usually interact with your other teachers that way?" he asked coldly.

,, What, jealous, are we?" she hissed. His other hand shot up, fast as a snake, and his fingers dug into her cheeks. Ophelia choked a whimper.

,, You should watch your steps right about now." he said in a low voice. It was amazing to see how frightened Ophelia got. She had never been threatened by anyone like that before, and Crane was the scariest person she'd ever met. The book with the lock had opened slightly and the first page was dark and cold.

,, Let go..." she said and tried to pull away.

,, And then the two of us can sit down like civilized people and have an established and calm conversation?" she nodded weakly and he let go, fingers stroking her cheeks soothing where they, seconds before, had been boring into them.

,, Good." he said and stepped back from her, giving her some space. She placed a hand on her cheek and rubbed the sore spot.

,, Come on." she said and walked into the backroom.

She made two cups of coffee in silence, not looking up from the things she was working with, and they sat down by the table.

,, What do we do now?" Ophelia asked, sitting and watching her coffee swirling around in the cup.

,, First thing first; do you want to continue being in my class?" she looked up at him. If she didn't want to be in the class, would he take that as a sign of something happening between them?

,, Yeah. I'd really like to stay there..."

,, And what about last night?"

,, One of your psycho-crap experiments, trying to... I don't know, toss me out of balance."

,, If that is what you think..." Ophelia didn't know if there was anything more to come, but she didn't feel like taking the chance.

,, I was just confused. I was tired and cold and I had some wine at Rose's. It doesn't mean anything." she took a sip of the coffee, which was far too bitter.

,, Good. No harm done then." Jonathan said. Ophelia nodded and let out a small sigh; now she could relax.

,, Then I expect to see you back in the class tomorrow, miss Cressida." Crane said and emptied his coffee.

,, Sure." she said and decided the leave to coffee.

,, Are you going to buy anything?" she asked and Jonathan shook his head.

,, Then would you mind getting out? I can't focus with you in the shop."

,, And why is that?"

,, I don't need to explain myself...! It's just hard concentrating with a teacher walking around." Jonathan got up from the chair and straightened the black jacket of his suit and Ophelia walked him out of the shop, turning the sign in the window afterwards.

*

Next day in school, Ophelia sat down next to Rose in the classroom where professor Crane taught. Ophelia so wanted to talk to Rose about what had happened, but she couldn't make herself do it. Up by the blackboard the bricks were gone and the desk was back in its place. But before Ophelia could ask Rose if they were in for a normal (well, as normal as any lesson could be with Crane) class, the bell rung and professor Jonathan Crane walked in, dressed in a black suit with a dark red tie and a white shirt with thin black lines. He walked up and put his briefcase down on the desk, snapping the locks open synchronically and looking out over his class, his eyes resting on Ophelia a second or two too long.

,, How do we react when we are scared?" he then asked to the class. A few hands raised here and there. Crane picked them and as they all came with symptoms on being scared, he wrote them down on the board.

,, Good. Can anyone mention a collective fear?"

,, Death?" Rose asked. Jonathan nodded.

,, It is not as much being dead as the actual dying we are scared of. A violent death is more frightening to most of us than a peaceful one. And..." he opened his attaché and picked something from it.

,,... That is exactly what we are going to look into today." he pulled a black handgun from the briefcase and checked the magazine before releasing the safety catch. The whole class froze and one of the girls in the back made a sound, a something between a scream and a gasp. Ophelia vaguely felt her jaw drop slightly.

,, That's not loaded." one of the boys said boldly. Crane's eyes flinched to him and a cold, killing smile spread across his face. Then Jonathan pointed to gun to a corner in the ceiling and pressed the trigger. Ophelia had never heard a gun being fired this close and when the bullet penetrated the ceiling, she slammed her hands over her ears, to shield them from the thundering blow. Rose broke out in silent crying, all of the students cowering at their seats, no one daring to move. Then Crane walked up and Ophelia for a moment thought he was going for her, but then he walked past her and placed the mouth of the gun at Rose's temple. Rose sat, eyes shut and tears running down over her cheeks, hands clutching around the edges of the table.

,, Rose, open your eyes." Jonathan said calmly. Rose just whimpered, biting her lower lip and crying harder, every sob making her body shake.

,, Open your eyes." he said again. Rose still didn't react.

,, Just open your eyes and you'll be fine." Ophelia was too scared to react, she just sat and gawked at Jonathan, who stood so calmly and held a gun to her friend's head. And then, slowly, Rose forced her eyelids up and looked up at him. Jonathan pressed the trigger...

Rose jumped in her seat.

... and the gun clicked. Jonathan put the weapon down on the table and looked out over the frightened class.

,, Crying, hyperventilating, tension of the muscles and reacting verbally, like screaming or cursing are all normal reactions when you are scared." Rose broke down and cried even harder, covering her head with her arms and sobbing tearfully. Ophelia looked at Jonathan for a disbelieving heartbeat, then broke the contact with his blank eyes and put an arm around Rose.

,, Shh, it's okay Rose, you did great. You did great. Just relax, okay, it's over." she murmured softly to her friend, letting Rose cry by her shoulder.

,, Miss Williams, if you are to keep on crying, might I suggest you leaving the room until you are done?" just as Crane said that, Ophelia looking at with hating and hurt eyes, the door to the room was flung open and the university principal and one of the janitors raced in.

,, We heard a gunshot." the janitor said, looking around for potential terrorists or school shooters, finding none.

,, A small experiment we were conducting." Jonathan explained coolly. The principal looked at the crying Rose and the stunned class, then at the gun at the table.

,, Professor, I think we need to have a talk in my office. Now."

,, Of course, but I just need to do one other thing." he picked up the gun and handed it to the janitor, then leaned down to Rose, who still sat and clung to Ophelia.

,, Rose, I would like to apologize for scaring you like that. But if I may say so, it was very brave of you to look me in the eyes as I told you to open yours." he held out his hand.

,, Well done." he said. Ophelia was about to blow Crane a slap across the face, but Rose slowly reached her own hand out and shook his.

,, If you want to talk about it later, I understand." then he straightened back up and looked at the students.

,, Class' dismissed." he announced and picked up his briefcase before walking nonchalantly out of the room.

*

,, You can not threaten a student at gunpoint!" Jonathan did his best not to roll his eyes.

,, There were no bullets in the weapon. And the one I fired I made perfectly sure it didn't hit anyone." Jonathan stood in the principal's office with his hands in his pockets, holding the enraged gaze of the smaller man with his strikingly icy blue eyes.

,, And I've also heard you made a student believe she was about to jump from a building!"

,, I _made _her _believe _it, yes. Nothing happened, in the worst case she would maybe have scraped her knee when falling."

,, Do you even have any legal explanation for frightening your students?!"

,, Rose Williams was afraid of firearms. Now she has, quite literally in fact, faced her fear. Now she won't have to be so frightened of them anymore."

,, Either that or you have just scared her even more!"

,, Her psychological profile doesn't point in that direction, sh..."

,, "Psychological profile"?! You are to _teach _these students, _not _draw profiles over them!" the muscles in Jonathan's jaw tightened. He did not like being interrupted.

,, Crane, I will give you one more chance to redeem your teaching and _apologize _to your students for using them as guinea pigs! And I am being very generous here, do you understand me?"

,, Quite," Jonathan said, still cold and calm as ever.

,, Then get out of my office...!" and he did, eyes burning like blank, blue fire.

**During my three final years in my school, I had ONE freaking week of psychology! I would so much like to try again, and to all of you out there who have psychology: I loathe thee! **

**And to all you you who have a teacher looking like Jonathan Crane... Well, I have a crossbow...!**

**Review please, and I'll put the crossbow away:D**


	10. Chapter 10

Ten.

It was Monday; Ophelia hadn't turned up for class, so Jonathan went to see her. It was amazing, he thought himself, on how many times he had visited the shop in the last weeks. He got out of the car and walked up to the door, then saw the sign in the window said _Closed_, but he looked in through the window anyway. Ophelia was standing, on the counter, up on her toes and was in the middle of changing a light bulb. She was wearing a huge long-sleeved shirt, the colour of dust, and a pair of dark grey jeans. She was standing with her back to Jonathan, with her long hair tied up in a loose braid, hanging down over her right shoulder. As Jonathan watched, she stood and swayed dangerously on her tippy toes as she changed the bulb, then stood back down on her feet. Jonathan took the handle of the door and pressed it down, actually only checking to see if it was open or not. It was. He opened the door and stepped in, causing Ophelia to turn as she stood on the counter. As she saw who it was, her eyes narrowed dangerously, like some kind of angry cat, preparing for scratching someone's eyes out.

,, Get. Out." she hissed.

,, I only came to check if you were ill, since you once again failed to show up."

,, Perfectly reasonable explanation for that;

Firstly: I needed a day off..." she jumped down from the counter and landed on the floor.

,, Secondly: I have decided to quit the class anyway, so there's no need for you to check up on me anymore." she flicked a wavy lock of hair away from her face.

,, And now you can get out. The shop's closed." Jonathan didn't move, he just stood and leered at her with a cold smile.

,, Either you get out or I'm calling the police." he took slow steps towards her, moving like a snake in the grass, causing Ophelia to step away from him.

,, Crane, get out now." she said, trying to make it sound tougher than she felt. She could feel her heart race faster and wanted him to go away, but she felt like he wouldn't listen.

,, And why have you decided to quit my lessons?"

,, You just threatened one of my friends, pointing a gun to her head!" what was it with people and that gun? It had been _empty _at that point, for crying out loud! Worst-case scenario, he could have hit her with it.

,, You threatened be to break my teeth, yet I am here."

,, Yeah, but you're..." she really didn't want to call him a freak, but she couldn't find other words for it.

,,... You're you..." she finished meekly, wishing the same second she'd just kept her mouth shut. It was probably the weakest argumentation she'd ever heard herself. She sighed and walked around the counter, not looking at Jonathan.

,, Won't you please just go, I don't want you here right now..." she whispered.

,, Honestly, I fail to see the point on where I have done wrong: that gun was empty and I apologized afterwards."

,, You shouldn't even have used that thing in the first place!" she shouted and looked at him; first now Jonathan noticed the red shine in her watering eyes.

,, Not here. Not in Gotham." she waved weakly at the street outside the windows.

,, I have never been so scared all my life...! You had us all believe you were going to do something stupid!"

,, Wonderful way of describing one of your classmates being slaughtered: Stupid."

,, Shut up!" Ophelia wrapped one arm around herself and closed her eyes, pressing her free hand against her mouth as if she was afraid of what might come if she talked.

,, Please. Just..." she looked him in the eyes, hers dark as the night and his clear as the winter sky.

,,... Go."

,, Very well." he walked up to her and placed a soft hand on her head, stroking her hair as much as he could with the braid holding it in place.

,, I apologize for frightening you like that." he said and leaned closer, kissing her softly on the forehead before leaving the shop. Ophelia sighed and untied the dark blue ribbon in her braid and ran her hand through her hair until it was detangled. She dropped the ribbon to the counter and made sure the door was locked before she made her way to her bathroom, where she looked at her wrist and decided the bandage had stayed there for long enough. She pulled it off and looked at the dark line in her wrist. She didn't know if it would scar, and she didn't care. Then she found a whole bottle of white wine in the fridge, poured herself a generous glass and sat down on her bed with a heavy edition of _Moby Dick_, deciding to read and let the real world, a world where Crane and kisses and Gotham were, scoot to the side for a time.

As she had emptied the glass she heard something, which sounded like knocking on the door to the shop. Cautiously, wondering who it could be, Ophelia walked up and looked out through the window. Then she sighed deeply and opened the door, letting Jonathan step in.

,, What's your excuse this time then?" she asked. Jonathan turned the lock and made Ophelia step back when he advanced. He took her face in his hands and sniffed slightly in.

,, Have you been drinking?" he asked in a very grown up voice. Ophelia shrugged.

,, One glass, why?"

,, Strong?"

,, Not really, why?" Jonathan kissed her again, deeper than the first time, Ophelia not protesting the slightest.

,, Because I don't want you to accuse me of taking advantage of you whilst intoxicated." he whispered and caught her lips again. Ophelia stood and wanted to scream and shout at him, but it was too hard to focus on him in a negative light when his tongue gained full access to her mouth and she leaned closer to him when his arms wrapped around her. Then sense returned and she pushed him back.

,, Why are we doing this?" she asked breathlessly, trying to block the fact that her hands were resting at Jonathan's chest from her mind.

,, I speak on my behalf when I say it is because I want to; I can not say about you."

,, You're my teacher..."

,, Not if you have decided to leave the class."

,, You're a teacher." Jonathan leaned in and closed his lips gently around her earlobe, causing Ophelia to strangle a small gasp.

,, And you're a shop owner, yet I do not hold that against you." he whispered and traced his lips back to hers.

,, I can stop if you want me to." he said, his breath being that of hers, since he was inhaling what she was exhaling and vice versa. Then Ophelia kissed him and dragged him into her small apartment.

,, Take off your glasses." she said, but when he didn't react quickly enough, she moved her own hands up and pulled them off, looking for the first time at Jonathan Crane without his glasses. She folded them and placed them on a stack of books by her bed. She unbuttoned his jacket, Jonathan's fingers being too busy with running through her hair and down over her back, and he pulled his arms from it and let it dump to the floor. They sat down on the bed and Jonathan pushed her gently against the mattress, pulling her shirt off her slowly.

,, Lie still." he said.

,, Why?" he loosened his tie and tossed it to the floor alongside her shirt.

,, Because I can see when you're still." everything was a blur for him without his glasses, but when Ophelia didn't move, he could see her almost as good as with them on. He could feel her hands working on the buttons of his shirt and one of his moved down and held hers in it.

,, How much can you see?" she asked, her lips parted in a smile she had never given him before.

,, Enough." he pulled his shirt from his trousers and snug out of it, like a snake shedding its skin, and he lay down with Ophelia's arms and legs moving up around him. He pressed his face down into her neck and sniffed in deeply. Books, wine, vanilla... He could get used to it.

**I haven't got the faintest whether this chapter is good or not, since I am, for unknown reasons, really tired right now. It's not even late, night has hardly fallen.**

**Childrin of ze night: Vot muzic zey make! (I have no idea on why I started to recite Bela, but I'm tired...)**

**Review and I will wake up:D **


	11. Chapter 11

Eleven.

Jonathan was mildly annoyed; one hour ago Ophelia had been fine with the whole arrangement, but now she was stirring and sighing regularly. She finally twisted out of the hold he had in her, got up from the bed, and grabbed for her underwear, pulling it on and forcing her shirt on afterwards.

,, Fuck!" she cursed in a hiss and began marching back and forth, muttering a variety of different things.

,, This is bad. It's so, so bad. It's really bad." Jonathan made himself more comfortable on the bed, pulling the sheet around his waist slightly higher up and looking at Ophelia through half-lidded eyes.

,, That really contradicts with what you said, not ten minutes ago." he said and couldn't help but grin. Even with his sight, it was easy to see her blush heavily.

,, Although it wasn't as much saying it of course as panti..."

,, Finish that sentence and you're toast." she bent down and grabbed his clothes, tossing it to him before marching around again.

,, Get dressed." she ordered.

,, Why the sudden hurry?" he asked and pushed his clothes back to the floor, not at all being in a rush.

,, I need to deny that this has ever happened. In order to do that, I kinda need you to be gone." she then turned on her heel and aimed for the kitchen.

,, I need alcohol." Jonathan just chuckled and leaned back down in the bed again, with the self-satisfied little smile guys mostly get after sex. In the kitchen Ophelia found the bottle of wine where she had left it and pulled the cork off, taking a deep swig of it and muttering to herself again.

,, What the hell was I thinking, he's my teacher!" back in the bed Jonathan got tired of waiting, so he pulled on his boxers and found his glasses and got up, walking up to Ophelia and wrapping his slender arm around her, standing behind her and listening to her sweet muttering.

,, Come back to bed." he offered and took the bottle from her and placed it just out of her reach on the table.

,, Didn't I tell you to get dressed?" she asked, her voice somewhere between anger and panic.

,, Come back and lie down. You're tired and confused, so you need to relax." Ophelia turned around and was now face to face with him.

,, I'm not confused: I'm having a fucking nervous breakdown!" she squirmed out of his embrace.

,, Just please get dressed and go home." Jonathan grinned and walked back across the room to the bed, where he lay down and chose a book from the pile of the floor, flipping randomly through the pages. Ophelia took another swig from the bottle, then sighed and made her way to the bed herself, grabbing Jonathan's clothes and tossing it to him once again.

,, Get dressed, get out and get home." she said and threw his tie at him.

,, And you owe me a condom." Jonathan sighed and flipped another page in the book.

,, Pedantic." he said and closed the book, shoving the clothes to the floor again.

,, Come here." he said and moved so she could lie down beside him.

,, You're not really listening to anything I'm saying, are you?" Ophelia tried and sat down on the bed with a sigh, burying her face in her hands.

,, Oh fuck. How the hell could I be so stupid?!" she mumbled into her palms. Jonathan took off his glasses and placed them on the pile of books again, then took Ophelia by the shoulders and gently guided her to lie down in the bed.

,, Relax." he whispered in the sensitive hair behind her ear.

,, Rest." he pulled the sheets up around her and nuzzled her further down.

,, When you wake up, we can talk." and, just as a precaution, Jonathan didn't allow himself to sleep before he was absolutely certain that Ophelia was.

**Why am I so tired?! I can hardly spell review as it is...! Anyway, you are all more than welcome to post a reivw and I'll go to bed now... :D**


	12. Chapter 12

Twelve.

When Jonathan woke up, Ophelia was gone from the bed. A quick scanning of the room told him that she was in the kitchen, sitting, fully dressed on the table, and chewing on the roots of her nails as well as the nails themselves. He stretched and yawned before grabbing for his clothes, his glasses still lying on the books, and slowly got up and pulled them on, leaving his jacket and tie for once. He took his glasses and put them on, and walked through the room into the kitchen.

,, Good morning." he greeted coolly.

,, It's noon: we've both skipped your class." Ophelia said, still chewing on her nails. Jonathan was hungry, so he opened the fridge and revealed the half-empty bottle of wine, which Ophelia must have put back at some point, a carton of orange juice, milk that was too old yesterday and some cold pasta. He closed the door again and turned to Ophelia.

,, Will any form of food be made available for the both of us?"

,, Well, I was going to go shopping yesterday, but then you came along and took advantage of me." Ophelia said between two chews on her index finger's nail, still not looking up from the counter in front of her.

,, Or at least that's what I'm telling myself right now." Jonathan took her hand gently and pulled if from her mouth.

,, Keep on chewing at your fingers and they won't be there anymore." he brushed his thumb over the dark, almost black, line in her wrist, then looked at her and gave her his smile, this time with something warm and unknown in it.

,, Let me buy you some breakfast." he proposed and Ophelia's eyes finally moved from the counter to his face.

,, Can't you just please go?" she said tiredly and defeated.

,, You're my teacher...!" she whispered, more to herself than to him, and buried her face in her hands once more, like a cartoon ostrich hiding its head in the bushes.

,, Putting that aside, I am nothing but a man who would like to treat the woman he had just spent a night with, with some breakfast."

,, I'm not hungry."

,, Figures, You've been eating most of your hand.

Get your shoes, you will be hungry when we get there." he walked back to the bed and grabbed his tie and jacket, then ran a hand through his hair and now looked perfectly like he had the night before.

,, Shall we then?" he asked Ophelia.

*

When they sat in the small café, the same as they had been in the day Jonathan had returned her Jung report, Ophelia didn't eat as much as poke to her food.

,, If you don't like it, then order something else." Jonathan said and took another bite of his egg white omelette with spinach.

,, No, it's fine." Ophelia said, but left the waffles and decided to sit and drink her coffee instead.

,, Is it really that upsetting for you?"

,, You're... You're my teacher...!"

,, You keep saying that as if it should suddenly become meaningful."

,, I don't even like you."

,, You have a very odd way of showing a person you do not like them." Jonathan said and sipped his water.

,, You annoying, idiotic, slightly crazy, a know-it-all teacher, you're pretty egocentric sometimes and I just know you think that you're better than the rest of us."

,, I take it the "crazy" part is for me holding an empty gun to your friend's head?"

,, Yeah, but don't even get me started on that now...!"

,, So, what do you propose we do?"

,, Despite of how much I hate you, you're actually... well, I like you a little bit..."

,, Are you saying you would like to continue this little arrangement?"

,, And people say that the romance has died out...! Listen, what was last night to you? Just a fulfilling of needs or what?"

,, I think it maybe was a little rushed, but I did enjoy it and I would like to see where this could go."

,, You _sound _like a teacher now...!" Ophelia dug her fingers into her scalp, clutching around her hair, and starred down at the table. Then she felt something soft press against her hair and looked up at Jonathan, almost stunned.

,, Did you just kiss me in public?" she asked bewildered.

,, I wouldn't get too used to it, were I you, but yes." he caught a wavy lock of her hair and twisted it around his finger.

,, I like you a little bit as well."

*

After the breakfast, they saw no reason for any of them to go to the college to catch their last classes. Jonathan called from his cell phone and announced that he wasn't feeling so well; Ophelia fed a payphone with the change she found in the pockets of her coat and told the office at the school there had been some developing problems in the family she needed to take care of.

The pair of them were walking through one of the smaller parks in Gotham, which was almost completely empty of people this time on a working day, Ophelia kicking pebbles aside with her old trainers and her hands buried deeply in her pockets, and Jonathan strolling along in his nonchalant way of moving.

,, Should we tell the school about it?" Ophelia asked and kicked an empty beer can towards one of the trashcans.

,, About what?"

,, You and me being... You know..."

,, We could... Or we could choose not to. If we don't, you can still be in the class, but then you must be prepared for me treating you like the next student." Ophelia shrugged.

,, I can live with that."

,, And I won't be grading you either."

,, Fine." she looked at him for some time, still walking beside him, then leaned closer and buried him in her scent of vanilla and old and new books, kissing him softly on one of his sharp cheekbones.

,, What was that for?" he asked, but he was smiling and the voice wasn't cold, like it usually was.

,, Because I can. And because it doesn't feel weird."

,, Don't make a habit out of it." another one of his smiles, soft and genuine. It was so unlike him, but Ophelia really liked it.

,, I should go back to the shop..." she said after a minute or two.

,, I don't know about you..."

,, I've... Got some things to take care of myself." they had reached one of the exits of the park by now, the street noise growing and the peace from the trees and birds fading.

,, Uhm, you know... If you want to... Uh, you could come by later... And we could... I don't know, talk or something...?" Ophelia said, looking more at the ground than at Jonathan.

,, I'd very much like that." he said and she looked him in the eyes, smiling shyly.

,, I'll be closing around five, so..."

,, I'll be there." she leaned closer again, this time planting the kiss on his lips, and Jonathan kissed again.

,, Bye." she said and quickly disappeared around the corner, leaving Jonathan with a scent of vanilla and a faint taste of honeyed waffles around him.

**Wow, I finally managed to wake up! And it only took five gallons of coffee!:D**

**It would be so lovely with a review to read:D They inspire me greatly:) **


	13. Chapter 13

**Sorry for the update, bit of a hectic time at home... But I'm back on track now:D**

Thirteen.

About ten to five in the small shop, Ophelia handed over a bag full of books for the last customer in the store and wished him a good night. As she was sorting through the money earned during the day, the bell over the door rung and she looked up, almost wanting it to be Jonathan. But it was Preschool Teacher, smiling widely as she entered.

,, Hi. Sorry for barging in this late, but I wanted to find a gift for my niece..."

,, No problem at all. You look around, I need counting this anyway." she gesticulated towards the money on the counter and smiled. Sorting through he cash, she wondered what the hell had happened to the old days, where money had been made of gold, silver and copper. Where the depression never struck, since gold could never lose or gain more worth. Now it was just cheap metal and paper; not that Ophelia fancied money, it was a purely professional love/hate relationship. She needed them to survive, but she would love to live a place where you wouldn't get slaughtered for wandering around with paper in your pockets. Not even written paper, just fake thrash without a story to tell or ink to read.

Hadn't she read something like that somewhere? Why humans were the only animals taking grief and problems and melting them into coins. Something like that anyway.

She put the money back in the register and closed it just as Teacher walked up with a book she had found. As she wrote out the receipt, the bell rung again and Ophelia looked up, her eyes getting a small twinkle to them as Jonathan walked in, smiling steadily back at her. She nodded towards the door to her apartment and he slid across the room, smiling cleverly at her before disappearing in through the door. Teacher grinned at her when Ophelia handed her the book.

,, What?"

,, Who was that?" she asked in a sing-song voice.

,, A friend." Ophelia said, blushing softly.

,, A very good-looking friend."

,, I haven't noticed... He's just a friend." Teacher patted her on the arm.

,, I'll leave now so the two of you can be alone." Ophelia found it difficult to keep her blushing at bay, so she was happy to close the shop, so the amount of people seeing her like that would be a minimum. She walked into her apartment, leaning against the door with her arms on her back, smiling at Jonathan who had been busying himself with standing and reading the titles of the books on Ophelia's massive bookshelf. He had changed his outfit and now wore a grey suit with a white shirt, a dark green tie and...

Ophelia sighed deeply.

... a grey sweater vest.

,, Hi..." she said softly and pushed herself from the door. Not twenty hours ago she had been lying next to him in her bed, nestled up against his lean frame and feeling his breathing in her hair. Now, she stood and shifted her weight constantly, not knowing where to look.

Jonathan walked up to her and brushed his lips across hers. Ignoring all manner of social politeness and necessity, which would have involved further greeting rituals, Ophelia pulled Jonathan closer and kept their lips locked together, digging her fingers into his back and his arms. When they pulled back for air she moved her right hand up and pulled off his glasses, folding them and latching them in a belt loop in her jeans. Jonathan pushed her hair away from her left shoulder and put those amazing lips of his to a good use, planting warm kisses up and down her shoulder and neck, his fingers pulling away her shirt to gain better access. Ophelia let out a small sound, causing Jonathan's lips to curl into a tiny smug grin against her exposed shoulder, before he pulled back and looked at her with his astonishing blue eyes.

,, Have you eaten since breakfast?" he asked. Ophelia blinked a couple of times, trying to clear her head from the foggy daze she was in.

,, What?"

,, Have you eaten anything since breakfast?" he asked, running his hand down her side until he reached her waist, snatching his glasses and putting them back on.

,, Uh..." Ophelia found nothing else to say to start of that sentence.

,,... No. Why?"

,, You should eat, it's not healthy going through the whole day on half a plate of waffles."

,, And we're back at the sounding like a teacher thing again."

,, All I am saying is..." his arm around her waist pulled her closer to him, their noses almost touching.

,,... you should get something to eat." he traced the thumb of his free hand over her bottom lip, before he extinguished the remaining space between them, kissing her softly and long.

,, It's not healthy." he said when they broke for air again.

,, You are without a doubt the single most romantic man I have ever met." she said, her voice sarcastic but a small hint of a smile playing in the corner of her mouth. Jonathan kissed her forehead and straightened her shirt back in place.

,, Is there any good places for eating around here?" he asked.

,, Let's see, there's the Chinese around the corner, there's and Italian two streets down, and... a Moroccan place down the road."

,, Anything you are in the mood for?"

,, Well..." she turned around and grabbed Jonathan's arm and wrapped it around her shoulders.

,,... How about the two of us splitting for a pizza?" they began walking out of the apartment, Jonathan letting his arm move down around her waist.

,, Why not?"

*

,, I've never eaten a pizza with that many vegetables on it in my life." Ophelia said and pulled out her wallet, counting the money for half a pizza.

,, Good to know I have a positive effect on you." Jonathan himself counted money for the whole pizza and tossed them on the table of the restaurant where they sat. Ophelia sighed and put her money on the white tablecloth.

,, Tips." she announced when Jonathan quirked an eyebrow. She stood up and pulled on her jacket, eyeing the darkness outside. She needed to get home before the evening turned to night.

,, Well, thanks for the dinner then." she said when they left the small restaurant, getting on her toes and kissing Jonathan on the cheek. Twenty four hours ago she had been single; now she was... What was she? In between.

,, Shall I walk you home?" he asked.

,, It's where your car's parked, so it might be a good idea." she giggled and they began walking down the street, no hurry besides getting home before the streets go too overrun with people with guns and knives.

,, So... You wanna stay overnight?" she asked and took a step in front of him, walking backwards and grinning softly at him.

,, I would very much like to..." he kissed her on the cheek, mimicking the way she kissed him.

,,... But it is a school night and we both need to get some sleep."

,, I should have known better...!" she said and resumed her position beside him.

,, So... The book you read about Jung... Is it something you have in your shop?"

,, Yeah, I stumbled over it one day when I was bored. And I... Just began reading.

You can borrow it if you want to."

,, I'd like that."

,, When did you decide you wanted to teach psychology?"

,, I began studying it one day and just... Kept on going. I'm trying to combine medicine and psychology on a higher level."

,, Like a shrink? Telling people what kind of drugs they need?"

,, In rough terms yes."

,, That's just so cool."

,, Why so?"

,, I usually don't hang around much with people who know things about medicine and stuff. And now..." she grinned at him.

,,... I'm hanging out with you."

,, Why did you chose psychology then?"

,, No, don't get me wrong, it's not like I don't hang with people like you voluntarily, not at all. I think it was the whole shadow thing that won me over; like Jekyll and Hyde: these two completely different sides that makes up for one person. Trying to find the golden middle road between the two of them, darkness as well as light." they turned a corner and Jonathan eyed up a dark alleyway further ahead, wondering if there would be anyone lurking in it.

,, And what's your darker side then?" he asked and pushed his glasses back up his nose. Ophelia chuckled.

,, In real life, I'm a ruthless murderer, who chopped up both my parents with a cheese knife and his them under the floor of my shop." when Jonathan's facial expression didn't change, she laughed and stuck out her tongue, giving him a light push with her elbow.

,, Nice to see the horror and disbelief in your eyes...! No, I don't know... I've never done anything more serious than a bit of spray painting and shoplifting." that made Jonathan react.

,, I only did it o... Twice! These two most beautiful books in the whole world, with marble pages and gold lining and fine old lather bindings."

,, In other words; you stole two antique books."

,, No one was reading them anyway...! A perfect waste of good books!" Jonathan couldn't help but smile and imagine Ophelia sneaking out of a shop with an old book in the bag or under her sweater.

,, And the spray painting?" they walked past the alley and no one jumped out at them.

,, A bit of tagging here and there, a few quotes from books and some of the ordinary... Mostly lyrics to songs I liked and he sort."

,, Quotes?"

,, Yeah, from poets and stuff, you know..." Ophelia's eyes consulted the darkness, as if it would tell her what she was searching for.

,, I still remember one I think...

So leave me among strangers,

to face blind walls and night;

let freeze under the eyelid

my eyes pulsating light.

And when, as is but natural,

earth does return to earth,

will anyone remember my death,

my life,

my birth?"

,, Impressive."

,, Eminescu. Romanian national poet. I remember writing it at the side of my high school the day I graduated." they turned into the street where the shop lay, the gold in the sign getting illuminated by a street lamp across the road.

,, You felt abandoned?" she shook her head and sent him another grin.

,, Nah, I just wanted to... I think I wanted them to remember me. Something to remember me by, you know." she moved a little closer to him, for warmth or closeness Jonathan did not know.

,, Or maybe it was just an annoying teenager crying out for attention." she said. They reached the shop and Ophelia stopped by the door, moving from one foot to another again.

,, So... Thanks for walking me home." she said.

,, My pleasure." Jonathan said and nodded towards his car. Ophelia smiled.

,, Okay... So, see you in school then." her cheeks grew red and she regretted she had said that. Jonathan seemed to like it though, as he demonstrated by placing his hands on her cheeks and pulled her close for a long kiss, stealing away Ophelia's breath swiftly. She felt her knees go weak and leaned back against the door, trying to deepen the kiss further without coming off as desperate. When Jonathan pulled back, she gasped for air, too loudly she thought herself, and grinned stupidly at him.

,,... Wauw..." she whispered, her hands holding around Jonathan's, which were still holding her head gently.

,, Good night." he said silently and stepped back, walking towards his car with Ophelia standing and watching him, hugging her sides happily. When she finally got her keys and managed to force them into the lock, she walked into the shop and locked the door after her again. She dropped her coat on the floor of her apartment and moved dreamily around the room, doing her nightly routine with a permanent smile on her face. When she finally got into bed, hiding under the sheets like a small snake in the leaves. The last word that went through her mind, accompanied by the image of a person with sharp cheekbones and bemused blue eyes, was

_,, Wauw...!"_

**Don't own Eminescu, don't own an Italian restaurant, don't own a set of stolen book (cough, cough) :D**

**Best of love and a hope for a small review or two, SeventhS:D**


	14. Chapter 14

Fourteen.

,, Can I ask you something?" Rose enquired as she handed Ophelia the note sheet she'd been copying off from. It was a fair deal; Ophelia took notes for English, Rose for math, and they swapped during the recess. They were sitting under one of the trees in the school ground, leaning against the trunk, with their bags in front of them.

,, Shoot." Ophelia said and scratched her hair, loosening the bun furthermore, before resuming to chew on her pen and stare blankly at her own math scribblings, trying to decipher what the hell she had written.

,, Two weeks ago you turned up with that thing around your neck in school, and you haven't removed it since."

,, That's more of a statement than a question." Ophelia said between two chews on her pen.

,, Did we talk about something with paprika at one point?"

,, Uh, no...?"

,, Then why the hell did I write paprika here?" Ophelia pointed to indicate the word. Rose shrugged.

,, And that's why I lend you my notes; you're terrible at taking them yourself!" Ophelia nodded and decided to forget her cryptic paprika related math notes and copy down Rose's.

,, What was it you were going to ask me then?"

,, Why are you always wearing it now? When you go to school, when you're in the shop, when we go out shopping, it's always there...!"

,, You don't like it?" Ophelia looked at the heart-shaped locket, dangling around her neck and resting on the chest of her blood red sweater.

,, No, it's nice. You just never wore it before..." Rose made a frustrated sound and stretched her neck to look around.

,,... Where's Crane when you finally need him? He'd probably tell why you never cease to wear that now...!" then realisation dawned.

,, You wear it now because you're a romantic kind of gal... And you never felt need for wearing it before, because it was empty. But there's a picture in it now... Which means..." Rose jumped for the necklace, Ophelia managing in the last second to dodge her friend and land on the ground.

,,... You've got a boyfriend!" Rose yelped and tried to grab for the chain again, Ophelia once more avoiding her, clutching the locket in her right hand, the same as she held the pen in.

,, No I don't!" she laughed and managed to squirm away from Rose, getting to her feet and quickly collecting her bag from the ground.

,, I want to see him!" Rose jumped after her, only just remembering her bag as well, and she started hunting Ophelia round the grounds.

,, I don't have a boyfriend!" Ophelia laughed and sped in through a door, Rose following like Coyote in the Roadrunner cartoons.

,, Yes you do! And I want to see!" Ophelia turned a corner sharply and jolted head first into Jonathan Crane, who had been walking casually in the other direction. Ophelia, with her considerable speed, knocked Jonathan over and they both landed on the floor, Ophelia on top of Jonathan and their legs a-tangled, her bag and his briefcase flying to separate sides. Rose just managed to hit the breaks before she tumbled over the two of them and she quickly stepped to the side, her face pale with terror. Other students in the hall, Rufus and Sabrina among them, began to whoop and wolf whistle at the sight of Ophelia and professor Crane. Ophelia sat with her hands planted on either side of Jonathan's head, her locket dangling like a pendulum back and forth in front of him.

,, Miss Cressida..." Jonathan greeted stiffly, moving up a hand to straighten his glasses. He was amazingly good to turn from Jonathan to Professor Crane, and Ophelia could never stop marvelling at how easy he made it look. With her, her tongue was swollen from all the times, talking to him during a class or with her friends, she had been about to say 'Jonathan' instead of 'Crane' and only managed to stop herself to bite her own tongue. Now, she just sat and gawked, all her systems having chosen to go on standby at that exact moment.

,, Are you aware that you are sitting on top of me?" he asked annoyed. Ophelia was about to reach out and smooth out his ruffled hair, but she once again just managed to contain herself. She swallowed and nodded slowly, feeling every pair of eyes in the hall on her, more joining from classrooms by the second and forming a circle around the two of them.

,, If you have nothing better to do, might I suggest you getting off me anytime soon?" Jonathan's cool voice brought her back and she began scrambling off him, her cheeks flushed with heat.

,, Sorry..." she muttered as she got off and he got up, dusting off the sleeves of his suit before he reached a hand down and helped her up as well.

,, I believe the university does not allow running in the halls?" he asked as he ran his own hand through his hair and smoothed it out.

,, No..." Ophelia said, looking at her sneakers. Jonathan turned to the ring of students, who first now realised how obviously they were starring, and all now tried to make it look like they were starring at something entirely else.

,, Would it be possible for you to find other means of entertainment?" that was an order and people suddenly became very busy.

,, It was my fault." Rose said, swallowing something before taking a step forward to stand beside Ophelia.

,, I chased her... Sorry."

,, Well, miss Hooper, not that I doubt how unimaginable frightening it must be getting chased around by you, none of you should run around."

,, Sorry." they both said as one.

,, One hour of detention for the both of you." their heads snapped up and Ophelia opened her mouth.

,, Anything you wish to comment on, miss Cressida?"

,, No..." Ophelia sighed.

,, Good." he turned to search for his attaché, finding it in the hands of Sabrina, who stood and held it eagerly towards him. Jonathan noticed the corner of a piece of pink paper, which had been put into the briefcase when had ad been busy elsewhere.

,, Thank you." he said tiredly and took it. Behind him, Rose handed Ophelia her bag and glared at the back of Jonathan.

,, With any other teacher, we'd been given a warning, but oh no...! I think he enjoys giving detentions."

,, He's a teacher:" Ophelia said and slung her bag over the right shoulder.

,, He _loves _it."

*

One school day, plus one hour of detention later, Ophelia walked out of the building, kicking at various pebbles on her way to the subway. However, when she was walking down the street, a sleek black car pulled up by her and stopped. Ophelia looked around to check if anyone she knew was around to see her, Jonathan rolling down the window and looking at her with those eyes. Confirming there was no one either of them knew around, Ophelia opened the door and got in, buckling down without a word. Jonathan drove out on the street and only spoke when they reached a red light.

,, I hope you didn't take it personal when I gave you a detention?" he asked, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Ophelia shrugged.

,, No." they didn't speak further until they reached Jonathan's apartment, where Ophelia dropped her bag to the floor out of habit, since they either spent their spare time in his apartment or hers. Jonathan walked out into the kitchen and Ophelia followed, leaning against the counter and crossing her arms like a stubborn child.

,, If you didn't take it personal, then why are you acting so?" Jonathan asked as he poured two glasses of deep red wine and hand Ophelia one.

,, Because...!" she sounded like she was about to shout, so Jonathan led her to the living room, where the acoustics might be better for a temper tantrum.

,, It's just...! You're so...!" she took a sip of her wine and started over.

,, You just make it look so fucking easy, you know that? It takes me a whole day getting used to calling you professor Crane instead of Jonathan, and just when I've gotten used to it..." Jonathan stifled her with a quick kiss, causing Ophelia to melt slightly.

,,... You do something like that!" she sighed and almost emptied her glass in the next sip. Jonathan tugged at the ribbon in her hair, loosening the bun, which she had been tightened during the cause of the detention to the point where it was painful, and let her hair fall down over her back and shoulders. He left the ribbon on the coffee table and rested one hand on the back of her neck, pulling her closer for another swift kiss. It deeply annoyed Ophelia, seeing how even the smallest peck from Jonathan could leave her breathless with jelly for kneecaps, but it was only something she got to think about later, since during the kiss, her mind was too busy giggling. She pushed him gently away and emptied her wine before she aimed for the stereo and turned it on, wanting to hear music, that soft jazz she had begun to relate to Jonathan, as strongly as with the smell of him or the soft brush of his lips even. She just stood for a moment, letting the music flow and when she turned Jonathan had removed his jacket and undone his tie and was standing right behind her. Without a word he moved his arms around her and she tilted her head onto his shoulder, closing her eyes and allowing herself to relax.

,, You knew what it would be like when you chose to stay in my class." Jonathan said and moved his left hand halfway through her hair, letting it get caught up in the waves and move soothingly around them.

,, I'm not complaining." she sighed and buried herself a little deeper in his hold, wanting to stay there forever.

,, I just remembered something." Jonathan said, almost sounding surprised, causing Ophelia to open her eyes and looked at him.

,, Yes?" Jonathan grinned live a fox and pulled her a little closer.

,, Today is Friday; it is officially weekend." Ophelia gave a small grin when she realised what he was saying.

,, Oh, so it is." she pushed him softly towards the couch and began working at the buttons of his shirt slowly, their lips already fused tightly together.

**Back again with another chapter on the same day!:D I'm going to cackle in the corner for a while, but I think I'll be back again soon:)**

**Until then, my little dustbunnies, read and do review!:D**


	15. Chapter 15

Fifteen.

,, Why would she be chasing you anyway?" Jonathan asked, looking thoughtfully out into the air as he spoke.

,, Mmn?" Ophelia uttered sleepily and raised her head from where it was resting on Jonathan's chest.

,, Rose Hooper. She said she had been the one chasing you."

,, Oh..." she let her head drop again.

,,... It was stupid really. She just asked me about my necklace..." she yawned and closed her eyes.

,,... And I refused to answer, so she ran after me."

,, What was she asking about?" somehow Ophelia felt he wasn't going to let it go, so she decided to answer shortly and precisely and then hope to get some sleep.

,, Why I always wear it now."

,, And why would that give her any reason to chase you?"

,, Because she figured that I had a picture of someone in it now, and she wanted to see. And then I ran." she snuggled further down, her dark hair spilling out over Jonathan's chest in a cascade of scented waves.

,, Now go to sleep." Jonathan could feel the metal of the necklace pressed against the skin of his chest, where it had been lying since it had been icy cold the way only silver could be, since warmed up by the body heat from him and Ophelia. He tugged at the chain, but Ophelia pushed his hand out of the way.

,, Oh no you don't. It's my necklace and I decide when I want to show it, and who I want to show it to at the time."

,, Or maybe it's still empty but you like the attention it gives you."

,, Yes, that's it. So there's absolutely no reason for you to be curious." she lifted her head again and smiled at him, teasing and triumphant, and then leaned closer for a kiss.

,, Now..." she leaned down to the floor and grabbed a sheet and pulled it over both of them.

,,... Can't we just please go to sleep now? I mean, just for a minute or so, I'm a bit sleepy." Jonathan scooted a bit to the side and helped Ophelia snuggle further down beside him.

,, Of course." he moved his arms around her, for protection as well as warmth, and they both slowly dozed of.

*

Since the hunt around the college for her necklace, Ophelia had chosen to hide the piece of jewellery under her shirt, where it rested on her chest like a shining second heart. She was walking in the hall with Rose, on their way to professor Crane's class when a door opened and Rufus got tossed out of a lesson he had been participating in. The two girls looked at the much larger and stronger boy, before quickly walking on and muttering to each other, things like _,, He used to be so nice when I first met him." _and_ ,, I think it's all Sabrina's fault."_

Behind them, Rufus made a fist and slammed it into the wall.

When they reached professor Crane's classroom, they silently entered and tried to sneak their way to their seats, both of them keeping an eye on Crane who stood with his back to them and wrote something on the backboard.

,, Two minutes late." he said dryly when they were halfway into the classroom, their seats just in front of them. Ophelia groaned and Rose cringed, both of them awaiting their sentence. Crane turned around and looked at the pair of them.

,, Sit." he ordered and they quickly got to their seats. He walked slowly down in front of them, looking from one to the other, before he let out a small sigh, the I-don't-know-what-I-can-say-to-you-type of sigh.

,, Since I am in a good mood today..." the girls sat and looked at their tables, waiting to get their one hour of detention.

,,...I will opt to ignore the pair of you are late." they both looked up, slightly gawking and stunned.

,, But if you, or any other in here, ever do that again, I won't take so kindly to it, understood?" they both nodded furiously, but the second he turned his back to them, they let out a shared sigh of relief.

,, Wonder why he's so happy?" Rose whispered when Crane was back at the board again. Ophelia shrugged.

,, Maybe he's high?"

,, I heard that." Crane turned back round.

,, Being late and talking during the lesson isn't exactly helping any of you."

,, Sorry."

,, Sorry."

,, Can we return to the teaching now?" they nodded.

,, Good.

If the Shadow part of the self is admitted into the light of consciousness and faced squarely by the individual, it can be utilized to effect change. In the Jungian model, it is part of the function of depth analysis that the patient listens to the Shadow. It is when the deeply planted voice or voices are heard that transformation begins. Uncovering the Shadow is like a gardener upturning deeply rooted weeds; it is an essential part of spiritual growth. When the Shadow is recognized and respected as a natural part of each Psyche an no longer repressed or projected, the human being can be whole and integrated. Anyone who can project this to something we all face daily?" Ophelia sighed and looked out of the window, her hand moving on its own account and doodling on her notepaper.

*

During the recess in the college, the halls were a massive chaotic mess of students and teachers, all of them trying to get from one point to another. Rose and Ophelia were walking up the stairs, talking about the concept of inner demons, and only stopped when they both bumped into two recognizable shapes. Sabrina and Rufus, who both stood looming over them.

,, Don't you go round talkin' 'bout me like you did before." Rufus threatened and pointed a finger towards Ophelia. Wanting to get away and avoid a beating, they both nodded and Ophelia gave a friendly shrug.

,, Sorry about that. Won't happen again." she tried to walk around him, but her grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back.

,, You think you're so fucking smart, but you know what? You're not." Ophelia wrenched her arm free from his hand.

,, Great, thanks for that useful piece of information. We said we were sorry, okay?" Rufus grabbed her by the collar of her sweater and lifted her from her feet.

,, Don't go around thinkin' I've actually forgiven you." he spat and shoved her back. It was meant as a threat, a show of strength. However, when standing on a staircase, pushing people is usually never a good idea. Ophelia felt her feet hit air and then hitting the corner of a step hard, causing her to fall and hit the sharp-edged concrete hard.

When people fell on stairs in movies, they always slowed down, so the viewer could get every little expression passing over their faces. In real life, it went almost sickenly fast. All manner of activity that had been going on in the hall, talks between teachers and students and laughter and gossip all silenced, all individuals standing frozen and looking at Ophelia, falling down and knocking every inch of her body against the steps. Elbow, arm, neck, head, knee, rib... It was all a blur. Only Ophelia, who was to be fair the closest one, heard some small disgusting cracks, broken bones getting shoved around on the what seemed endless way down. Then the back of her head knocked sharply against the edge of a step.

Jonathan had been in the hall as well, discussing with Emily Danes, one of his students, about her grades, but now he only had eyes for Ophelia, who finally hit the ground heavily, whimpering in pain and trying not to move too much. Then she lay still, her hair tangled with red sticky blood and her right arm lying in a nauseating angle. Someone in the hall screamed.

**DA-DA-DA-DUN!!!**

**Now I should be a real bastard and write The End, right? No, kidding, I'll update again a soon as I can.**

**Seriously, in my preschool we had this loft, with a big set of wooden stairs leading up to it. And one of the boys fell down of it one day; it looked like a slinky on a mix of caffeine and speed, the fastest thing I've ever seen. He was four at the time. And when he landed on the floor, he instantly sat up and kocked his head against the side of a table. He was fine and I've known him all my life, so he made it quite good:D**


	16. Chapter 16

**Already, a thank you, even though I'M STILL NOT QUITE DONE: Lady Nightlord, ****PurgatoryNymphe, Jokes On You, Maddsy, Madness is me, tubagirl-747, Nicoteen, Midnight Leopard, MustLoveGreg.**

**BIG ****THANKS TO ALL OF YOU FOR HAVING REVIEWED MY STORY!:D**

Sixteen.

Gotham General Hospital was, like every other hospital, a place of hope and despair, where dreams were created and some shattered. Though Jonathan was keen on learning about medicine, he never really did like hospitals. Yet there he was, walking down the hall and looking after the specific number he'd been given by one of the nurses. When he found the room, with the number 42C on the door, which was slightly ajar, he knocked on it politely before entering. Ophelia was lying in the solitary bed in the room, her eyes closed and her left hand resting on a book, like it was her teddy bear. Her right arm had been mended, the bone forced back in its place, and was now lying heavily secured and utterly useless down her side. The parts of her skin that hadn't been covered by bandage or the hospital gown was mostly bruised black, blue and brown, signs of the connection with the concrete stairs. The back of her hand had been pierced by a needle for a drop and a monitor by the bed was connected with an EKG, showing her steady heart rate. Her breath came in strained rasps and her chest rose and fell with what looked like effort.

Jonathan sat down on one of the uncomfortable chairs and gently moved a hand over her hair, which had been cut various places so her scalp could get stitched back together. Her eyelids fluttered like butterfly wings and she slowly opened them.

,, Hey." she said tiredly and tried to moved to sit up.

,, Stay like that, you need to relax." he said and pushed her back down, trying not to touch any place on her that hurt.

,, How are you feeling?" she had been admitted to the hospital two days ago, and a steady stream of friends had been visiting her since then. And they had all asked her that, but now she felt she could actually be honest.

,, Like I've been run over by a train." she said.

,, You should eat, you need your strength." Jonathan said and nodded towards the small moveable table, which could be pushed in over the bed so even a person chained to it could eat, where a tray of food stood. Hospital food, of course, but food nonetheless.

,, And believe me, I'm hungry as hell..." her voice sounded to tired and dry, and she stopped to moisten her lips with her tongue.

,,... But hospitals are mean when it comes to that; you're not allowed anything to eat hours before a surgery and when you're finally able to, the medication they give you is making you throw up if you try to eat anything." then her brows crinkled.

,, How can you be here, it's after visiting hours?"

,, I have my ways."

,, You paid someone, right?"

,, Here and there." and even the most incorruptible nurse, even though there were hardly anyone left in Gotham, found it hard to say no to those amazing eyes and his charming voice.

,, Could you do me a favour?" she asked.

,, The nurses keep drawing the blinds, but I want to look out."

,, Even at Gotham?"

,, Jonathan, there are four walls in this room; one ceiling, with twenty two plaster tiles; the radiator has four, maybe more, I can't tell from here, bolts of various sizes; the blinds have 85 slats... And I hate math...!" she looked at him, her eyes big and pleading.

,, If I don't get to see something else than this cell, I'm going to go mad as a March hare... Whatever that means..." Jonathan got up and walked around the bed.

,, I am on my way." he walked up and pulled the blinds away, letting in the evening light and a very dull sight of some office buildings on the other side of the hospital foundations. He turned and looked at Ophelia, who looked out of the window like it was the most beautiful sight in the world.

,, Thanks." she said sincerely. Jonathan walked back and leaned down, kissing her carefully on the forehead before sitting down again.

,, Your comforter?" he asked and indicated the book in her left hand.

,, Yeah, I asked Rose to bring me something to read from the apartment... 'Course, it was only when I got the thing I realized it's impossible for me to read." she held it up and looked sadly at it.

,, I can't turn the pages and keep my eyes on it." she said and stuffed the book under her pillow.

,, What are they giving you?" he asked and stood up, turning the plastic bag so he could read the medication on it.

,, Something for the pain..." she said and Jonathan decided not to tell her what he was reading.

,,... Yeah, I know it's placebo, but they say it will work." she gave him another weary smile.

,, Make-believe morphine sucks." he sat back down and moved a hand over her hair again. It was obvious she had tried to move her hair and rearrange it, so the remaining locks could cover her stitched up skin.

,, You said you have been operated?" she tried to give a nod.

,, They moved some of my ribs back in place. They told me the ones that aren't broken are bent, but I didn't bother asking for details. And then sowed up my left longue and... I don't really know what they've done, but right now, I'm running on one longue while the other one heals."

,, You must be in pain...?"

,, Comes from a person who have never had menstrual cramps, some big words!" she said and tried to laugh, but stopped when the pain got too much.

,, I should have known better." she pulled her thin cover up higher and looked at Jonathan with a small smile.

,, How's everything at the college?"

,, You are quite the talk of the university. And your delightful friend Rufus has been sent home until further notice. Nothing of interest, I should say." Jonathan remembered how the scream that had sounded in the hall, some anonymous girl, had set off a mass of shouts and curses and people calling for an ambulance. I had all been rather dramatic.

Someone knocked at the door and a nurse stepped in, holding a small plastic cup with an assembly of pills in it and a glass of water. Jonathan recognized her as one of the women he had paid on the way in.

,, How are we today, Ophelia? I've just gotten some painkillers for you."

,, Yummy. I'm doing fine." Ophelia said and took the pills, swallowing them with a sip of the bitter water.

,, Aren't you hungry?" the nurse asked and looked at the tray. Ophelia shook her head.

,, Maybe tomorrow." the nurse took the tray and winked at Jonathan, the charming man who had snaked his way in, and left.

,, Do you think the hospital knows she steals the pills and sell them, and feeds the patients placebo and vitamins?"

,, This is Gotham; who doesn't?" she nodded and yawned.

,, I'm making you tired..." Jonathan got up from the seat.

,,... I'll come and see you tomorrow, when you've gotten some sleep." he leaned down to kiss her goodbye, but Ophelia grabbed him by the hair with her good hand and kept him in place, kissing him as if they hadn't seen each other for weeks.

,, Bye then." she said. Jonathan gave her hand a small squeeze.

,, Until tomorrow." he said and smiled at her, leaving the small cell of the hospital by the same way he had arrived.

*

,,... many types of drugs have been known to induce fear. Any examples?" Rose, who sat and looked very alone without Ophelia by her side, held up her hand.

,, LSD? A bad trip can sometimes induce negative emotions, like sadness or fear."

,, Good example." Jonathan turned to write it down on the board, speaking as we wrote.

,, Many plants, some which are actually used in medicine, have been known to wake fear in the human mind. These plants include roots, mushrooms, dried leaves and flowers..." Jonathan was cut off when his cell phone rung from inside his briefcase. He put down the chalk and pulled out the phone, looking at the number. Most people wouldn't have been able to make sense of them, but he knew them to be the number of Gotham General.

,, One moment please." he said and walked out of the classroom, answering the phone in the hall.

,, Jonathan Crane... Yes... She's in my class... I am..." there was a long pause.

,, I see... Thank you... Goodbye." he turned the phone off and straightened his suit before he walked back in, as cool and indifferent as always. When he got up to the front of the class, he put the phone down on the desk and looked out over the class, wondering where to begin.

,, Three days ago, Rufus Oliver, who I believe you all know..." he waited and let the class nod. Oh, they knew him.

,,... Pushed one of your friends down the staircase out in the hall. I just received a call from the hospital..." he taped the phone on the table with one finger. He could already see how it was dawning on some of the students' Rose included, but he felt like he had to say it.

,,... Ophelia died of her injures one hour ago."


	17. Chapter 17

**Wonder if this is how Charles Dickens felt when he wrote The Old Curiosity Shop? Because I feel like an utter lowlife, even though I had decided when I started to write this thing to let Ophelia... Cash in her chips. The quote on the stone if from The Cure's Treasue: Don't own. **

**A review would really make me feel better;D **

**I'll be updating as soon as possible. **

Seventeen.

It really was a small funeral, nothing big.

The graveyard was small, not much bigger than a small park, with headstones lining it like marble and stone fences. The funeral arrangements had been take care of by Rose and her family, with every person from the psychology class donating some money. Jonathan was amazed to see how they all stood around her grave and cried; he had never known Ophelia had had such an impact on people. Rose stood with her family, mom, dad and two brothers, and looked down at the polished coffin, as if she just waited for Ophelia to jump up from it.

In Gotham it was important to get the headstone by the grave right away, so the space wouldn't be taken by some other person, so there already lay a grave marker by the head of the casket. It was carved from black marble in the shape of an open book, with silver imprinted lettering saying

_Ophelia Cressida._

_Friend and daughter._

_,, It is better to forget _

_Than to remember me_

_And cry."_

Apparently, it was a quote from her favorite song, or so Rose had said and Jonathan saw no reason for her to lie. And, on the cover of the book, the part which was facing the ground where no one could see it, a small word had been engraved as well:

_Yes._

From the night she had quoted the poem to him, Jonathan had wondered if anyone would remember her after she was gone. Looking around, at the black clad classmates, at the woman he had seen in the shop, at a tall man with a red scarf and a book poking out of a pocket in his coat, and knowing he himself was there, that little _yes _was the only honest answer to give. It was an elaborate headstone, very expensive; Jonathan had paid for it alone.

It had been quite the struggle to track down Ophelia's parents, and when he finally had, all they had done was send a flower arrangement. He found himself wanting to burn the flowers, since they seemed so empty compared to Ophelia.

,, Do you know what she'd said if she'd seen that?" Rose asked the gathering and pointed to the headstone.

,, What?" Emily Danes said after some time, brushing a blond lock behind her ear.

,, She'd say 'How do you turn the pages?' " they all chuckled, except for Jonathan.

He still tried to make it all fit; his grandmother, the old witch, had taken weeks to finally die. So no doubt he always thought of dead as something slow. Not one week ago he had been lying with Ophelia in his arms, listening to her voice as she told him about how she had started up her shop and about her different customers. Not three days ago had he been sitting in her room at the hospital, listening to her laughter. And now she wasn't there anymore. And he just stood there. Not that crying would bring her back of course, but he wondered if he should confess his relationship with her here, on the threshold of her grave. But what use would that do? It just felt so strange, knowing you had only kissed the person days ago.

Later in the evening, Jonathan pulled up by the restaurant where the wake was to the held, looking out at Ophelia's friends, who all stood and nodded and smiled sadly as they talked about her. Then he shook his head and drove back to his apartment.

As he locked the door after him, he loosened the black tie of his formal wear and threw it on the chair along with his jacket. He then went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of wine, remembering he had bought that bottle knowing it was Ophelia's favorite. Back in the living room his eyes fell onto the white plastic bag standing on his coffee table. He had gotten that at the hospital; it contained Ophelia's belongings, the clothes she had worn when admitted and such. He walked over and put the glass down on the table, digging through the bag until he found what he had been searching for; the silver locket.

Holding it up into the light, he could almost hear Ophelia telling him that it was hers and she was to decide whom to show it to. He sighed and opened it, not really knowing what to expect to find. Inside it, cut out and taped to fit in place, was a small part of her report on Jung, the part with a red A- written on it.

Jonathan's lips curled into a smile and he dropped the locket to the table, picking Ophelia's bundle of keys from the bag next. Then, taking one more sip of his wine, he left the apartment and walked for his car.

Arriving at the shop, he unlocked the door with the keys and walked in. The bell over the door still rung as if nothing had happened and Jonathan almost expected Ophelia to stand behind the counter or by one of the bookshelves, where the light from the street only just reached. How could a person die and their scent of them still linger? He had never noticed how strongly the shop smelled like her, or maybe he was just imagining things. He walked into the apartment, smiling at the mess Ophelia had left it in. He knew the shop already had been taken over, so the whole place would soon be dismantled, so he just felt he had to find something to remember her by.

Walking to the bookshelf, he quickly found two books looking different from the rest; older and more exquisite. He pulled them from the shelf and looked at them, knowing Ophelia ad wanted them to be read. He opened the first, a collection of old faerie tales, and a thick mass of papers dropped to the floor. Bending down and picking them up, he saw that it was the rest of Ophelia's report. He chuckled when he saw the corner she had cut off and decided to take the report as well.

Taking one last look around, Jonathan Crane left the small bookshop, and never returned to it again.

*

Waking up the next day, Jonathan couldn't help but smile at his own silliness. He had fallen asleep on the couch, with Ophelia's sweater as his pillow, and now woke up with a stiff neck. Het sat up with a small groan and stretched his slender arms. Then he walked out into his bathroom and took a long shower, letting the cold water wake him up completely. Then, dressed in a clean shirt and clean trousers, he walked back into the living room and picked up one of the two books. And he began reading.

***

_**Smoke and Mirrors **_quickly got sold and the whole store was taken apart; the dark wooden floors and panels got replaced by white linoleum and tiles; the books, Ophelia's as well as the ones in the shop itself, got scattered across the city, delivered to other bookshops and some of the picture books even got sent to Narrows, where Arkham Asylum wanted the books for the small book collection for the insane to flip through. The black and gold sign got replaced by a white one with green lettering, telling passers by it now was a laundry.

And, one month after Ophelia's funeral, the principal finally fired professor Jonathan Crane from Gotham Central University, since teaching the students about something as dull and useless as fear was unimportant.


	18. Chapter 18

**PreciousRaymond, ****Lady Nightlord, ****PurgatoryNymphe, Jokes On You, Maddsy, Madness is me, tubagirl-747, Nicoteen, Midnight Leopard, MustLoveGreg.**

**And anyone who had read this story: A BIG THANK YOU AND A HUG!**

Eighteen.

Years after the whole incident, since he could find no other name for it, dr. Jonathan Crane sat in his office at Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane, reading through a year old report one of his former students had written on the psychologist Jung. It always lay in his briefcase and he could read it over and over again, smiling one of his very rare smiles, as if the papers told him an old joke. He actually took great pride in the report, since he could still recall every single detail about the person who had written it; her eyes, her hair, her smile, her scent, the touch of her lips and the brush of her fingers. And what Ophelia had written about the human mind's Shadows all those years ago was something Jonathan still would return to, now and again.

And, during some of his latest researching, it proved to be a great help.

The telephone on his table rung and he inattentively pressed the button for the speaking system.

,, Yes?"

_,, Dr. Crane? It's Karoline Webb. I think I have a patient here that might interest you."_ Jonathan folded the battered report and put it back in the briefcase, where it lay amongst syringes and small canisters with different types of... medicine he had been experimenting with these last months.

It also lay on something else.

Something made of burlap.

,, I am listening." he said, resting his elbows on his desk and interlocking his fingers, sitting and starring concentrated at the small machine.

_,, Caucasian, male, twenty-seven years old. Admitted with violent fits of rage and two assaults. We have him in restrains by now, and we would really appreciate if someone with your knowledge could come and take a look at him."_

,, I will be down in a minute." Jonathan said and pressed the button, cutting off any answer that might have been coming. It was good with new patients, he needed them for his experiments. He had been testing several different combinations of drugs these last months, everything from pills to vapour, and he had just finished a new one.

He got up from his chair and straightened his grey suit before closing his attaché and walking out of the door.

The results so far had been good, but not what he wanted. During his research he had come across some small blue flowers, growing by the foot of the Himalayas, and he couldn't wait to try their effect on one of his patients. Getting the powder from the flowers smuggled into Gotham had proved to be easy and, thanks to a league, which shared its name with a part of the human mind, he now had more than plenty for his experiments.

He walked into the elevator and pushed a button, waiting for the whole rusting construction to start up. Arriving at the cells on ground level, where patients where kept during analyzes and such, he walked through the labyrinth-like corridors until he found where he knew the new patients were kept. Karoline Webb stood, cross-armed and a bit nervous looking, by one of the doors and waited for Crane to arrive. When he walked up to her, she gave him a slight smile as she handed him a file on the patient.

,, He's been sitting and complaining about the conditions and he seems a bit mad, so try to be careful." she said and smiled at him.

,, Mrs. Webb, I take a personal pride in always being careful when it comes to dealing with patients, so I would prefer if you didn't question my work abilities." Jonathan Crane said, leafing coolly through the file. He stopped, only for a second, when he saw the patient's name.

,, Sorry." Mrs. Webb muttered, taken aback by the icy voice. Jonathan turned his eyes towards her and smiled.

,, No, it should be me apologising. Why don't you go to the cafeteria and get a cup of tea, it's frightfully cold in here." she nodded slowly, looking at the door to the cell.

,, You sure you don't want me to stay?" she asked. Jonathan shook his head and smiled at her.

,, No, I believe I can manage this one on my own. Now go before you get a cold." he waved with the file, shooing her down the hall, and entered the cell when she was gone.

The man sitting at the table had his hands chained to the sides of the counter, sitting and starring at the chair in front of him, where Jonathan Crane walked up and slowly sat down.

,, Rufus Oliver, we finally meet again." Crane said, his eyes blanker and deadlier than ever before. Rufus looked at Jonathan Crane and began laughing.

,, Professor Crane? What are the odds, huh? How've you been? I didn't know you worked here." Jonathan sat down in the chair without a word, flipping through the pages of the file again.

,, Quite a record you have here; armed robbery, two rapes and four attempts, unprovoked violence... Impressive."

,, Yeah, but they've left one out." Rufus leaned back in the chair, relaxing now that he saw it was one of his old teachers.

,, And that would be...?"

,, You know, for tossing that bookworm down the stairs in college... What was she called, can you remember? I've forgotten her name." the muscles in Jonathan's jaw tightened to the point where it was painful, but he ignored it.

,, Ophelia." he answered shortly.

,, Yeah, Ophelia, that's it! She looked like a fucking doll on her way down, I really had to stop myself from laughing." Jonathan slowly removed his glasses and folded them, putting them in an inner pocket of his jacket. Usually everything would be blurry, but he could see Rufus just fine. Hate and rage and something else, that voice he had been listening to more and more often these last few months made him see the patient in front of him clearly. And then he asked, in his coldest, cleverest and blankest voice.

,, Would you like to see my mask?"


	19. Chapter 19

Epilogue.

The woman at the florist looked at him with a weird expression, like she wasn't used to see people in expensive suits buying roses. He didn't care the slightest.

He walked to the graveyard, which seemed much smaller than it had been all those years ago. He walked along the gravel path, the grey pebbles crunching under his shoes. When he found her grave, he bent down with the flowers and placed them halfway on the ground and halfway on the stone. He then straightened back up and looked at his work, at the silver name and the red roses. Vandals had found great joy in destroying the gravestones, tagging them and breaking them, but luckily Ophelia's stood untouched.

Thinking about her, he stuck his hands in his pockets and the left one touched something. Pulling it out, he saw that it was a small plastic bag with a blue flower in it, a sample from his latest medicinal experiment, which had proved to work almost better than he had intended it to.

He pulled the flower from the bag and placed it among the roses, like a sapphire on a red velvet pillow. He wouldn't be that sentimental fool that stood and talked to the grave, but he could clearly see Ophelia's face before him and he imagined what he would say to her.

When he got too cold he left the graveyard and stepped out into the street.

And, even though it was just his imagination playing a little trick on him, he could have sworn the gust of wind that hit him in the face smelled like dust and wine and vanilla.

And books.

The End.


End file.
